


Out of The Ashes

by SABATHco



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Angst, Blood, Developing Relationship, Drama, Gore, M/M, Romance, m/m - Freeform, sex scenes, slow, softcore, sshp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-29 16:22:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 190,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SABATHco/pseuds/SABATHco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape awakes a week after the Battle of Hogwarts to be told Harry Potter saved his life. Post-war, slow Snape/Harry, adult themes, mild profanity, romance, male/male, AU. This series will explore Harry's final year at Hogwarts and his progressing relationship with Snape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awake

**Fandom: Harry Potter  
Setting: AU, Post-war/Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows  
Characters (main): Severus Snape, Harry Potter  
Relationships: Harry/Severus (SLOW)  
Warning: Contains low levels of profanity, sexual references, angst, slow forming relationship, softcore, romance, drama, male/male.   
  
Summary: **  
  
Snape awakes a week after the Battle of Hogwarts to be told Harry Potter saved his life. This series will explore Harry's final year at Hogwarts and his progressing relationship with Snape.  
  
Chapter One: Awake.  
  
   Blood gushed from the wounds on his neck as Severus Snape’s back fell against the glass window, Nagini’s fangs sinking into the warm flesh beneath the folds of his collar. Puncture after puncture made his body spasm before the snake was finally torn back to its master, the Dark Lord merely walking away from his most faithful of servants (to his knowledge).  
   The turn of events had even been a surprise to Snape, but he should have seen it coming when Voldemort’s tone turned on him. He was a smart man—so Voldemort had pointed out mere seconds ago—but killing him?   
   Was he afraid of death? He didn’t know. And everything just seemed like such a rush.  
   He could barely move, feeling the venom going deep into his veins. All he could do was gurgle and try to hold the loss of blood off for as long as possible, his eyes glazing with fear. However, he knew what the snake’s bite was capable of. He’d seen it before.  
   Arthur Weasley.  
   Though the man had been inches away from death, he did have the help of that arrogant boy. Harry Potter had seen it in his visions, and thus there was immediate help. Him? He was in the Boathouse, the only company being Death that he could see slowly circling before him.  
   At the sound of footsteps, something in him wished it was the Dark Lord coming back for him. How merely pathetic of him. He hated Voldemort, despite what everyone thought of him. He’d done this to protect her son. Lily’s son. For her! Not for Potter. Not even for Dumbledore. He did this for Lily Evans and no one else; because he knew she would have wanted her son to be protected.   
   It was that moment he saw her. He saw her eyes. Those gorgeous, green eyes looking at him, a hand against his neck as if to stop the bleeding. He wanted to touch her, to greet her. Of course, he was out of his mind, mere inches from death, and at first hadn’t realised it was actually Harry.  
   What was he doing here!? He was going to get himself killed! Voldemort had been just there; ready to kill him, and the boy was coming after him like some daft hero? Bloody Gryffindors!   
   But there was something inside him, wanting Harry to know the truth. He was going to die. He was going to die nothing but a traitor to Dumbledore and Hogwarts. A traitor to Harry, and in turn, a traitor to Lily. He couldn’t let that happen. Not to mention the fact that Harry had no idea he was one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes.   
   Dumbledore’s words now made sense more than ever. That there was a time he needed to know. And in his death, that was how Harry would know. Had the old wizard planned this, too!?  
   Lifting his shaken hands to the tears that were beginning to dribble down his cheeks, he choked out a, “Take it,” to the boy. Harry seemed confused for a moment, so he tried again before the boy finally understood him and he felt the unsettling warmth of the phial against his so cold cheek.   
   “Look… at… me…” he whispered, bringing back those green eyes. They were wide in worry, and something Severus never thought he would see turned to him. Hate, annoyance, of course. It wasn’t like they got along. Harry was so much like his father that they couldn’t possibly. Running into danger all the time, breaking the school rules. It was impossible for Severus to take a liking to the boy when he was so much like James. But those eyes? They were so much like his mothers.  
   “You have your mother’s eyes…” he breathed, and somehow it didn’t take any of his strength to look into them before darkness took him.  
  
   Severus found himself—uncharacteristically at the age of thirty-eight—in the grass back at Spinner’s End, his old home town. Of course, he figured this was just his transition from life to death.   
   Looking down at himself, he realised he was no longer in his thick, black teaching robes. Instead, he was in a white undershirt, much like the one he still wore beneath his robes, and black trousers. But that wasn’t what his eyes were on. Instead, they were on the pale skin, revealed from the coiled up sleeve of his left arm. His clean, unmarked left arm.  
   The Dark Mark… It was gone. He placed his fingers to where the connection (and slavery) to the Dark Lord had stained his skin. This was most certainly life after death. Maybe not Hell, though. If he were in Hell, then surely the mark would still be there. It haunted him, as well as his sleep at night—not that he’d have to worry about that anymore.  
   “Does it hurt?” The man’s dark eyes turned at the soft voice that was at his side. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the pale, red-haired woman.   
   Lily.   
   She was here? But why!? This was his death… Why would she be here? Why now? Where was Potter? He almost groused, but realised this was not the time. Not when Lily was here. He’d already screwed up once around her, and it had torn them apart horribly. He could hold his tongue—hopefully.  
  
   The woman sat beside Severus. She wore a thin, white dress, her hair drifting in the light breeze that rustled the leaves on the tree above them. She looked at the man that had been her friend since they were young.   
   Although he was dark in many ways, there was a certain light in Severus that not many saw—including James and his friends. She had always wished that they could put their differences aside.  
  
   “Why are you here?” inquired the former Death Eater, though his eyes not once leaving that gorgeous, pristine face of hers. He could feel the gentle breeze against his skin, amazed that he could feel anything right now. Whatever this place was, it wasn’t real. It was just a dream before he was swallowed up in the blackness.   
  
   Lily smiled gracefully, lifting her hand. Severus flinched as she brushed a dark lock away from his pale skinned face. “Nothing will hurt you here, Sev,” she reassured. “I’ve been watching you.”   
  
   Watching him? His brows furrowed. It sounded stupid to ask where he was, and what this place was. Clearly he knew he was in Spinner’s End, he just didn’t quite know why he was here. Especially now, after death. Somewhere familiar, perhaps, for the transition? He was a Slytherin, after all, and logic seemed to be one of their better traits.  
   He didn’t often come here. Of course, it was still his home out of Hogwarts, but to be honest, Hogwarts always seemed more of a home than here. He only returned here when he had to, like at the start of the year with Bellatrix Lestrange and Draco’s mother, Narcissa Malfoy.   
   “Potter… I could not save him,” he said softly, almost regrettably. Of course he regretted dying and not being able to keep him safe for Lily. The only reason he’d betrayed Voldemort was because of Lily and the Prophecy, amongst his other views on the Dark Lord and having to occasionally suffer the Cruciatus curse.   
   Feeling a hand against his bare arm, Severus couldn’t hold back the flutter inside his chest as her hand gently touched his own. He’d missed her so much. He’d been distraught to see her lying there on the floor, cold and dead while a young Harry wailed in his cot.   
   He was selfish, he knew. The right thing would have been to aid Harry, to sooth him. But he had never been a gentle, loving or caring man. He had gone straight to the fallen Lily, the love of his life as she lay dead.   
   Even in his time at Hogwarts, he didn’t go out of his way to be nice to Harry. In fact, sometimes he just couldn’t stand looking at the boy without his blood boiling. It wasn’t like he did it on purpose, though. Maybe if Potter didn’t strut around the castle like he owned the place and constantly went looking for trouble…   
  
   “Harry will come out of this alive,” Lily said, as if she knew he wouldn’t die. She believed in her son, and she was there, watching him as well. She knew the battle between her son and Voldemort would be tough, but Harry was such a bright and brilliant boy, with such courage in his heart. She didn’t understand why Severus couldn’t see that in him. Why he looked past his heart and saw only the torment James and Sirius made him suffer as a child. Harry was not James.  
  
   “And you know this for a fact?” he asked almost too coldly. He immediately regretted it when Lily’s hand slipped away from his arm. He looked away, across the field that seemed like it never ended. And maybe that was what this place was. His eternity after death.   
   “I should have done more,” he murmured softly, his dark eyes lowering.   
  
   Lily watched the man curiously. She held no contempt for what he had called her all those years ago. She’d been just as stubborn in her time, but it had hurt her more than it should have. Severus was her friend before James and his obnoxious crew. It was the Slytherins that had gotten into Severus’ head. She always knew he didn’t like his parents fighting, and his father had been an abusive, neglectful Muggle. She never did forgive him for that single slip, and before she could persuade James to try and get to know Severus, it had been too late.   
  
   They both sat there in silence for what seemed a long time, as if trying to find what to say to one another. Nothing could take it all back. Nothing could be said to make Lily know and understand how sorry he truly was that all of this had happened. That she had died from the Dark Lord. That he had followed him!   
   Snape hated himself for doing so. He’d been weak. He’d been so easily persuaded that it was the right thing to do. He was just so pissed off at the world around him that… well, it had seemed a good idea at the time. He soon came to regret it. And he’d tried to make up for it with his loyalties to Dumbledore and the Potter boy. He’d risked his life time after time for this, and for what? So Harry could just die in the end like the rest of them?   
   “Do you truly think he can survive this?” he asked, looking back to the love of his life. Her green eyes were on his once more, gracefully as ever touching parts of his soul that she would never know. Even in death he still felt like a child to her. How pathetic. He was a grown man. A dead man. And still… the mere look from the woman had his heart moving in ways it shouldn’t.   
   But it was easy to hide it all away once she had died. It was easy to become cold, dark and cynical. Lily had been the light of his life. His best friend, and the woman he loved. Once she was gone, there was nothing to be happy about or for.   
   How he’d tried to look forward to Potter coming to Hogwarts just for her! But even if he did like the boy (which was incredibly difficult to even try), he couldn’t let the better side of him show either way. He had to convince the Dark Lord that he was utterly loyal to him, even in putting Harry in potential harm by giving away his moving from Privet Drive, and harming one of the Weasley twins in the process by pure accident.   
   Nothing could take that back. He was no hero. He never would be. And if Harry could make it back to the Pensieve, that didn’t mean a thing! Voldemort could still very well kill the boy. How Dumbledore had so much faith in a seventeen year old boy, he had no idea.   
  
   Once more, Lily Evans put her hand against the warm skin of the Slytherin. “I have full faith in Harry, Sev. He will do what he knows is best. He will do everything he can.”  
  
   Snape almost scoffed. “He’s a seventeen year old boy!” he cried out, though his voice not nearly as harsh as he thought it was. It was almost like this place wouldn’t allow such emotion. As much as he had great control on himself (usually), he was still a very dark and angry man. His past had not been pleasant to him, and although Gryffindors wore their hearts on their sleeves, Slytherins did not.   
  
   Lily seemed surprised, giving a soft hum and taking Severus’ hand into her own. Her fingers trailed down his arm before taking his palm and intertwining their fingers. “I recall a certain seventeen year old boy being quite a powerful wizard at his age,” she said gently.   
  
   Snape’s dark eyes widened a little, as if shocked she would bring anything like that up. This was not about him! This was about the fate of the world he had just been ripped from so viciously. Harry Potter could very well die tonight, and if he did, there was no hope for the wizarding world. Not even for the Muggle world.  
   He looked down at her hand in his own, their fingers crossed now. He wanted so much more, though. It was as if she were teasing him now. The whole world could die tonight, and yet, here he was, being selfish again by wanting Lily Evans against him. Against him in a soft embrace. A soft kiss. Anything.   
   “Lily…” he began, looking back to those glowing eyes of hers. “I’m… sorry for what I said,” he apologised. “For calling you a…” He stopped. He would never let those words touch his lips again. He should have never called her a Mudblood in the first place. How sick and vile of him. How… Death Eaterish of him.  
  
   Lily remembered how apologetic Severus had been when it had happened. He’d apologised week after week for what he had called her, but she had been stubborn, like she’d thought before. In response, she just gripped his hand even tighter into her own, smiling gently and leaning into his side like she once had when they were friends, watching the field as it swayed from the breeze.   
  
   Snape swallowed hard at the sensation of the woman being against him. He’d been single for a lifetime. His heart and love had been loyal to Lily, even though he knew she would never be his. It hadn’t stopped him from being faithful though. Plus, he knew he wasn’t much to look at. There honestly wasn’t much point in trying to date or look for someone else; especially when he knew he wasn’t the most nicest man, nor the most attractive.   
   They stayed sitting in silence for another moment, and Severus just enjoyed the touch of Lily against him after all of these years. He wanted to question why she was even here, and what Potter would think of it. After all, even in death surely they were still together in the afterlife.   
   At the same time, maybe he didn’t want to ask. Maybe he wanted to be selfish again in keeping it to himself, in basking in her attention that he so craved all this time. He was dead anyway, so it wasn’t like it mattered. He couldn’t possibly die again.  
   It was strange, though. The sensations that went through his body. He hadn’t felt them in a very long time. He was still a man, but with his career as a Potions master, Professor, then Headmaster and of course being a double agent for Dumbledore, he just didn’t have the time to think about such things. And he didn’t want to.   
   The last thing anyone could ever imagine was Severus Snape in a relationship. Merlin, they probably thought he was so strict because he wasn’t getting laid. Sure, the sexual frustration could be annoying, but that hardly was the reason why he was strict to students. He was just professional and didn’t take any of their rubbish. He was respected (or had been) by the other professor’s at Hogwarts, not to mention the Ministry with his knowledge in potions. Not just any old one could be a Potions master. It took a lot of skill, and he had very skilled hands. Hands he’d like to touch Lily with. He’d like to sooth down her soft, silky skin…  
   “Sev?” came the woman’s voice, startling him out of his impure thoughts, which was probably for the best as his body had begun tingling with a strange sensation in his stomach. He looked away from her, but gave a curt not in acknowledgement as she asked what he was thinking.  
   He did go stiff, and as much as he didn’t wish to, he pushed himself up from the grass and took a few steps away from her. “Why am I here? Why are you here?” he suddenly interrogated. He didn’t understand any of this. “If this is just a dream… then I don’t wish to have it,” he told her. Not if he had to wake up with her gone.  
  
   Lily seemed hurt, and a frown appeared on her usually soft lips. “Have I done something wrong?” she asked.   
  
   Wrong? How could she possibly do something wrong? Despite the fact that she went with Potter, but it wasn’t like he could blame her for that. Potter was more attractive and clearly more heroic than he ever could be—even if he’d risked his life so many times for her son. Clearly intelligence had nothing over bravery and looks.   
   “No,” he finally breathed, rolling down the sleeves of his shirt. He folded his arms, looking over the vast area.  
  
   Following Severus, Lily stood beside him, placing a hand to his arm. “You want to ask why I’m here when I’m with James,” she spoke gently, her voice as gentle as the wind that made the grass dance before them. “I know you and James never were friends, but he really did change for the better, Severus. Before we… I told him to make amends with you, and he agreed that he would.”   
  
   Snape almost rolled his eyes at that. He wasn’t interested in making friends with James Potter. He was and always would be an arrogant man who flaunted his magic around as if he were better than everyone else.   
   Was this supposed to make him feel better? He wanted Lily, not to befriend Potter. He wanted something that he could not have, and even in death he was going to be denied that. Maybe this really was his Hell. Then again, did he expect any different? Of course not. Life wasn’t fair—he knew that all too well.   
  
   Taking Severus’ arm into her hand, she turned before him, looking up to his dark eyes. “You don’t belong here, Severus,” she said, which seemed to shock him. “You do not have to stay, Severus. You are welcome to go back any time you wish. Harry still needs so much protection and care. You’re all he has left now…”   
  
   What? What was she talking about? Had she gone bloody-well mad!? Of course he had no choice! He was dead! His brows creased in curiosity, though, questioning what she was talking about. Lily merely took both of his hands into her own, making him move uneasily even if he wanted her comfort so much. He was not used to this level of comfort.  
  
   “Sev, you must go back. You must go back and protect Harry for me,” she urged. Once more, she lifted her hand and drew back a dark lock from his face. She smiled, though, leaning in so their foreheads touched. And then she kissed him. A small, but gentle peck on the lips.   
   “Open your eyes, Severus.”   
  
   Snape couldn’t do anything but look at her in a confused manner as her lips pressed gently against his. He’d wanted so much more than this, but he couldn’t even find himself to kiss her back properly.   
   He had no idea what she was blabbering on about. He moved into her warm palm though, watching her eyes bewilderedly as she leant back. “I don’t understand…” he whispered, watching her green eyes upon him.   
   The breeze seemed to pick up around them, and he looked up, seeing the branches sway above them. But when he looked back, Lily was gone, and he spun around stiffly, feeling pain sting his left arm and all down his neck.   
   He hissed as he felt the warmth of the Dark Mark on his arm burn his skin, pulling up his sleeve. It was raw and red, a scar, but no Dark Mark. It wasn’t a living thing anymore, but rather dead against his skin and pale. It still ached and burned, and he closed his eyes, trying to compose himself.  
   When he opened them, the imagery changed, and his body ached. He was lying down, somewhere soft, despite the aches and pains that were going through him. He swallowed dryly, everything out of focus before him.   
   Looking down, he saw that he was dressed in not white but black. His own nightclothes. As he moved his neck, pain shot through his left side, and he felt cold. Why he had been taken away baffled him. Maybe he didn’t belong with Lily, and this was his punishment. To live a life of pain, feeling as if all the magic was drained from him.  
   He lifted his sore arm and pushed up the sleeve to see that the Dark Mark was like it was before. Not alive, but not gone. It was a scar. Like a Muggle tattoo but faded. However, the next thing he wasn’t expecting to see were green eyes looking at him. Not from Lily, but from Harry Potter.


	2. A Change At Hogwarts

Chapter Two: A Change at Hogwarts.      
  
   After the defeat of Voldemort, Hogwarts had tended to their wounded and had rebuilt the school walls to the Great Hall and any other area that had been affected. They had buried their dead respectfully and said their goodbyes, but Harry would not let so many people die for him.  
   Having seen the brutal assault on Professor Snape, something in Harry couldn’t leave the man there, cold and alone. He knew Snape had never liked him, and he had never liked Snape in return, but something in his heart told him that he couldn’t stand by and watch as he died so gruesomely.  
   In Hermione’s bag, there had been Essence of Dittany and they’d tried to hold off the bleeding. Of course, after the attack on Arthur Weasley, they all knew that Snape’s chances were slim, and that the Dittany wouldn’t do much at all—as Nagini’s fangs prevented the wounds from healing. However, they had dragged his body back to Hogwarts’ hospital wing and begged for him to be saved.   
   There was a reason Snape had given him his tears, and he had to know why. Snape wasn’t known for giving him anything, and certainly not begging for something from him. He knew very well that there was some kind of meaning behind such a desperate act.   
   Although there were many wounded and dead—and the hospital wing was full—he’d urged Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey to see to Snape’s wounds. Madam Pomfrey had said they were grim, and had almost refused to treat such an evil man. After finding out Snape had killed Dumbledore, McGonnagall was even resilient. But he urged them, telling them there was something that didn’t add up, and so they believed him. They trusted him.   
   Of course, Harry didn’t see the man until the Battle of Hogwarts had been won, and whilst he duelled with Voldemort, the truth came out about Snape after he’d seen his memories in the Pensieve.  
   He didn’t know what to think or feel after he’d seen what Snape had done for him this whole time. A man he thought hated him had been protecting him more than anyone. More than even Dumbledore! It was hard to believe, but the memories didn’t lie. He knew when they had been tampered with from when he’d seen Professor Slughorn’s and Tom Riddle’s about the Horcruxes.  
   It came to a shock in his first year here at Hogwarts, when he thought Snape was the person trying to get the stone and kill him, but it turns out Snape was one of the people who had been trying to protect it and had actually set up the obstacle to get through. He’d saved him from Professor Quirrell when he’d cursed his broomstick as well. Why would he save him? He had been blinded by the man’s cruel nature and hatred towards him.  
   Looking back on it, he actually felt rather guilty. But it wasn’t like Snape helped his cause. He made it clear that he didn’t like him, and that he didn’t want to befriend him. Not to mention how much he enjoyed taking House points from them all the time and giving them all detention.   
   Snape made himself out to be the bad guy. Not telling anyone what he and Dumbledore had planned all this time? Always being so snappy with him whenever he could be. He understood that Dumbledore kept many secrets (as frustrating as it was), but something like having a guardian might have helped him along the way! He’d always felt so alone. He had Ron and Hermione most times, but even they couldn’t understand him sometimes.   
   He thought he had no one when Dumbledore died. He couldn’t stand the thought of so many others dying for him! He was tired of all the blood on his hands.   
  He had thought Professor Snape was a coward. That he’d run back to Voldemort. The night on the tower when he’d killed Dumbledore? His whole world shattered. He’d come to finally try and see what Dumbledore saw in the Potions master, and then he had to watch as he killed the most powerful wizard out there so cold and easily!   
   Finding out the truth was something different, though. Finding out how much his father had picked on Snape as a child was bad enough. It made him feel awful. Snape never spoke about it, and neither did he after the incident in the dungeons. He didn’t even tell Ron and Hermione. Not with the way Snape had reacted over it. He still remembered the jar of cockroaches flying towards him in the dungeons like it was yesterday.   
   But finding out he’d done so much to protect him? That he’d loved his mother? That felt odd. It was hard to come to terms with, but it made a lot of sense. He’d looked up to his father, and always hated how Professor Snape had spoken nastily about him, but now he knew why.   
   The professor was asleep in the bed chamber. It had been a week and a half since the attack at Hogwarts. School was going to be up and running in a while he figured, but the news and celebrations were still carrying on, as well as the mourning for the lost ones. Most teachers were cancelling the rest of this year and were going to retake the years in September, like when they usually started. Mainly they were gathering the students to see who was still here and who wasn’t—and who was willing to come back.   
   Voldemort was finally dead, though. Gone! Defeated! And the man before him, bandages around his throat and chest beneath those dark pyjamas, had not deserved to die in that battle.   
   Voldemort had suspected that the wand belonged to Snape, but it hadn’t. Snape hadn’t disarmed Dumbledore that night on the Astronomy Tower. Draco Malfoy had. After learning that, it only made him realise that Snape’s death would be even more unfair. He told Madam Pomfrey to do her best on his healing, and once the truth had come out, she did so.   
   Of course, Professor Snape had been given numerous amounts of Blood Replenishing potion. It was the only way to get the poison of Nagini’s bite out of his system. He’d be in the hospital wing for another night or two after he’d wake up, or so he’d heard.    
   Harry also found out that in the wizarding world, it wasn’t anything like the Muggle world when someone slipped unconscious. Although Snape had lost a bit of weight, he was still getting fed. Not through tubes like back home (not that he could call the Dursleys house home), but through potions. He’d asked if there was one that could just wake him up, and although there was, Pomfrey had said that he needed all the rest he could get to take in the Blood Replenishing potions.   
   Professor McGonagall had also been by Snape’s side quite a few times. Harry figured that she felt guilty for trying to kill him back in the Great Hall a week ago. Not to mention she was shooing him away constantly, telling him that he had to eat and sleep. It wasn’t like he’d been at Snape’s side constantly, he just liked to check on him and see if he’d woken up. After all, he had loads of questions to ask.  
   Right now, everyone around him, his whole family… was gone. Besides Hermione and the Weasleys, Snape was the next best thing to his father, Sirius and Remus when they were growing up.   
   He knew they all didn’t get along, and he couldn’t blame Snape for being snappy about it. His father had embarrassed him in front of the girl he loved—his mother. Not to mention the nicknames and all the other hexes that went on between them all. He honestly didn’t believe that James ever could have matured from that.   
   It was an early Thursday morning when Harry had come from breakfast in the Great Hall. Because classes had stopped, the students at Hogwarts were just settling back into a regular holiday season at Hogwarts until the official term would start in September. But many were staying just because it was their usual routine. Of course, rumours were still flying around the castle about everything and Harry was getting the usual stares and cheers from everyone. At least people weren’t sneering anymore, but that didn’t make it any less comforting. Harry was quite tired of fame by now. He just wanted a normal life, and with Voldemort gone, he was hoping it would stay that way.  
   Apparently not. He was a hero now.   
   There were still Death Eaters out there, but he doubted any of them would come back. They were cowards. Of course, the Ministry of Magic (who was now run by Kingsley Shacklebolt) was doing everything in their path now to catch the ones that fled.   
   Apparently Lucius Malfoy had handed himself in, along with his wife. But they weren’t going to Azkaban in exchange for information. Plus, Harry had informed the Ministry what Narcissa had done for him in lying to Voldemort about his death. She had never been a Death Eater in the first place. She never wore the Dark Mark, just associated herself with them due to her husband.   
   Draco, on the other hand, had returned to Hogwarts, if only to show his loyalty. There were others who still looked at him like a Death Eater, but Harry knew better. He knew better on the night of the tower when he couldn’t kill Dumbledore. Draco Malfoy never had it in him.   
   When he saw movement from the bed he was sitting idly beside, he brushed his messy hair from his face and looked to the dark haired man who was slowly, but surely, waking up.   
   “Professor,” he said gently, bringing those dark eyes to his attention. Snape looked, to be fairly honest, like crap. He didn’t expect the man to be looking his finest. He was alive and awake, and that was all that mattered.   
  
   Severus’ face fell as he saw the Potter boy sitting beside his bed. Still unsure of what was actually going on, he just leant back. One minute he’d been with the Dark Lord, then attacked by his stupid pet snake, and then he’d been with Lily, feeling her soft, silky skin against his own, not to mention her lips against his. To see Harry was not what he wanted right now. No matter how comforting those eyes were to his bleeding soul.  
   He didn’t know what to think or expect to Harry being here. He knew he’d most likely seen the Pensieve and the memories. Why else would Potter be here? And why else would he have been kept alive? Clearly others knew, and that made him feel even more uncomfortable. He didn’t even want to think what others were saying about him.  
  
   “Professor Snape?” Or Headmaster? What the hell was he really supposed to call him right now? Harry didn’t know, but he did lean out of his seat when he heard a soft ‘what’ grumble from the man’s throat.   
   “Sorry,” he mumbled, knowing he must be in quite some pain, not to mention confused. The last thing he’d seen was Nagini attacking him. He wondered if he even remembered him giving Harry his tears for the Pensieve.   
   “You’re back in Hogwarts,” he started. “Do… do you remember anything? Anything at all?” he asked, the professor still facing away from him. He was awake, though, because his eyes were across the room to the wall. Though weak, they were open.   
   “The snake, she bit you. But Ron, Hermione and I brought you here. We brought you back,” he said almost too excitedly. It wasn’t that he was excited, he was just happy to know that Snape would live.   
   He didn’t know how he felt about Snape anymore. He’d hated him with a passion, but that was before he knew just how much this man had done for him. Now… he didn’t know. But he was happy to see him awake.   
  
   So he _was_ alive? Somehow that wasn’t exactly a pick-me-up to Severus Snape. But he did turn his head slowly and painfully, brows furrowed. Why would Potter and his friends even think of saving him? Hero, right? Just to have another thing on Potter’s shoulders. More pride. More of a celebrity. Pathetic. He should have just let him die. At least he’d be with Lily.   
   He was going to open his mouth and hiss at the boy to go away, but a table suddenly slid itself in front of him, Poppy Pomfrey coming into his view.   
  
   “Severus! You’re awake,” the elderly witch said, walking hurriedly towards the man. Although he looked baffled, she approached his bedside. “Can’t imagine you’re feeling too well.”  
  
   “Like-,”  
  
   “Yes, yes,” the witch cut in, Snape’s eyes flicking to Harry before returning to her. “You’ve been out for quite some time. You’ll feel weak for a few more days, as you know, the Blood Replenishing potion does that. You’ve been given an antidote to the bite, but you should be fine now that you’re awake.”  
   She went about her duty, grabbing a few things and putting them into the table before Severus. “You should eat. It will make you feel better.” There would be plenty of time to tell him what the result of the war had been.  
  
   With a flick of the witch’s hand, the plate was filled with food before Professor Snape, a goblet beside it. Harry grinned a little. Even after all these years, magic never ceased to amaze him. He’d only seen Dumbledore do that before, but he figured it was simple magic by now. After all, he knew how to summon water. Plus, people in the hospital wing still needed to eat and drink. Mainly it was the magic behind the elves as well.   
  
   “You’re very lucky, Severus. Young Mister Potter and his friends brought you back after the attack,” she informed, the man giving another quick glance to Potter.   
   Snape clearly wasn’t used to the company, nor being in such a situation. He seemed uneasy, so Madam Pomfrey raised her head to the young boy. “Well, off you go, Potter. You’ve spent enough time in the hospital wing from your own injuries. Run along,” she shooed.   
  
   Harry frowned a little, but he nodded. It wasn’t every day that he wanted to spend time with the Potions master. He just gave the slightest of smiles to the professor before heading out of the hall and going to the Great Hall to catch up with Ron, Hermione and Ginny—who had all decided to stay with him until they would all go back to The Burrow for the holidays.  
  
   Snape’s expression was unreadable for a moment as he watched the boy walk away. How unusual for him to even be here. However, he soon turned his attention to the room as Poppy went to her other duties.   
   Beside him, on the bedpost, were a few things he would never expect to see. Cards. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. He’d been here plenty of times when Sirius and James decided to hex him. Even then he rarely had a visitor. Except Lily (when they were friends).   
   As an adult? He’d never expected to see this. Of course, there were the few times that a dim-witted student made a potion explode, but he’d never been severely harmed enough to have to come here, and he always had reversal potions in his classroom. Then there was the time Harry first came here and he’d got his leg sliced trying to protect the Philosopher’s Stone. Even that he could fix himself with his own ingredients.   
   There were a few cards and a few small boxes. He didn’t know what to think of them. He’d never expected gifts from anyone, wasn’t too fond of Christmas or his Birthday, and never expected sympathy cards from anyone. The thought actually made him feel quite sick. It was rather pathetic, and it concluded his theory. They knew the truth.   
   Seeing the _Daily Prophet_ , Severus took it into his weak hands and looked at the front page, completely ignoring the cards. There were celebrations all over the page, Hogwarts clearly the centre of attention. Of course, there were names of numerous deaths, and like always, a photo of Harry Potter on the front.  
   His eyes rolled, scoffing mentally as he slapped it down onto the table, though wincing as pain shot up through his side. Just like his father, basking in all the glory. Life really wasn’t fair. Then again, he had no desire to be in Potter’s position. Cameras all over the place, fame and glory. He much preferred the silence of the dungeons and a good book.   
  
   “You know, Severus,” came a soft voice, Minerva McGonagall walking into the room, “Harry Potter and his friends were the ones that saved you. You should give the boy some gratitude,” she said, nodding her head in a gentle smile as she approached the younger man.   
   “It’s good to see you’ve woken.” It wasn’t unusual to see Minerva happy, but when it came to Snape, not many held a smile. She, however, was very pleased to see him awake, and she patted him gently on the unwounded shoulder. “How are you feeling?”  
  
   Surprised to see the woman so cheery (despite the war being won as he’d seen in the paper), Severus sat back in the now raised hospital bed. The last time he’d seen her, she was throwing curses at him for the kill.   
   It had shocked him at first, and he didn’t want to have to fight her back. There was a reason he flew away and only blocked her spells. Minerva McGonagall was an old friend. She had been there when he was sorted into Slytherin, was loyal to Dumbledore and Hogwarts, and had vouched for him on numerous occasions. She hadn’t once thought bad of him until Potter had let out the fact he’d been the one to kill Dumbledore. But secrets were secrets. Not even he could betray Dumbledore.  
   Did she know the truth? Did she know why he’d killed Dumbledore? That he was sick? That he was dying anyway? That killing Dumbledore made his loyalties obvious to the Dark Lord? Then again, why else would she be here?  
   He didn’t _want_ to kill Albus, but he was loyal to Dumbledore. He’d given him a second chance. He owed his life to that man! And so without question, he took the order he knew he had to perform. He would have done anything for that man. Anything at all. Having killed him had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done.  
   “What do you expect?” he finally said, hissing a little at the pain in his throat when he spoke. He was curious, though, to what had happened in the time he’d been bitten to now. Everything seemed… different. But yet the same. He was the enemy of many, and yet here he was—alive. Why? Why would Potter even want to save his life? Maybe there was more of his mother than his father in the boy after all.  
   He was tired, though. And to be honest, he didn’t want to think about all of this. His mind just wanted it all gone. Why couldn’t he have just died?   
  
   McGonagall gave a tight lipped smirk, walking over to the small box of goodies. “Confused, puzzled, befuddled, out of place?” she suggested just a few, the man’s eyes narrowing towards her.   
   She gave a short laugh. “Why I never thought I’d see the day that Severus Snape was making friends,” she noted, picking up one of the cards and reading it with an amused facial. Clearly, it wasn’t amusing Snape, though.   
   “We won, Severus!” she almost shouted too excitedly. It startled Snape, and she gathered herself, brushing her green robes down and clearing her throat. “Voldemort… he’s gone! Potter did it, Severus! He saved us!”   
  
   So he read. Severus looked down at his left arm. It was sore and tingling beneath the black sleeve, but not because he was being summoned or that the Dark Lord was alive. It more felt like it was an old wound playing up.   
   “I hadn’t noticed,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, even if weak. That meant the blasted snake that bit him was dead and gone, and he felt a pang of satisfaction at that. Not to mention the fact that he was no longer a spy, no longer a slave to the Dark Lord.   
   He exhaled slowly, looking back at the elderly woman. “And what of the school?” he asked, folding his arms against his sore body as he leant back into the pillows. Merlin knew he’d turned the place upside down. But he’d taken the roll of Headmaster so the Currow’s wouldn’t completely wreck up the joint. It seemed to work, even if he knew students were performing Unforgivable curses. He doubted that was his position now. As soon as he fled, he’d left his post. Hogwarts surely chose a new Headmaster in his absence.   
   He hated that he had to stand by and could do nothing. Showing any kind of sympathy would have given him away. Would have shown weakness. Weakness like when he’d told the Dark Lord to spare Lily’s life. He just couldn’t allow it, even if he didn’t enjoy knowing how much torture the students were receiving. How they could forgive him and let him live? He had no idea. Nor did he expect any kind of forgiveness for his actions.     
  
   “Safe and protected from any further threat, although I doubt anymore trouble—beside the odd student getting detention—will happen,” she explained, her hands going together. “All the students helped put Hogwarts back together, and some outsiders as well. Despite the memorial it’s become, it’s also quite the destination to be,” she mused.   
   Ever since the battle had been won, many more witches and wizards wanted to come and see where The-Boy-Who-Lived had finally defeated Voldemort once and for all. Of course, still only selected students made it to Hogwarts, but that didn’t mean other schools weren’t coming to see the grounds and complimenting it.   
   Her facial features softened a little, and she placed a hand to the bed. “Severus… if any of us had any idea what your true intentions were…” she started, the dark eyes meeting her own green ones. She sighed, nodding her head a little and knowing he didn’t want to talk about it. “I do apologise for calling you a coward and attacking you, but you did your duty so well… How were we to know? We could have killed an innocent man. One that saved us just as much as Potter had.”   
   She now understood why he hadn’t fought back. Why he’d fled the castle in hopes of escape. She had been too angry to realise the look of utter shock on his face when she’d put herself before Harry Potter. To her, he had killed the most powerful wizard in the world. It all made sense now, though. After hearing Harry explain everything, and, of course, after seeing the Pensieve for herself.    
  
   “You weren’t,” the man murmured, ignoring the fact that she had said he’d saved them just as much. “I had no intentions of making it out alive.” As much as the snake bite was a surprise, Snape had no intentions of living through this war. If not from someone protecting Hogwarts, than from the Dark Lord himself later down the track.   
   He had no idea Potter would be willing to sacrifice himself in such a way. He figured he’d be just as arrogant as his father was. Then again, he was a Gryffindor, and he’d done the heroic thing. Taken his life to kill the Horcrux in himself and attack the Dark Lord. Clearly Dumbledore had kept another secret from him, or maybe he didn’t know? But either way, Harry Potter had survived to kill the Dark Lord, and somehow in this time he and his friends had managed to save his life, too.   
   He should have been more grateful to the boy. After all this time, how many risks he had taken with his own life to protect him, Potter had finally returned the favour. He’d saved his life, even if he was ready to give it up a long time ago.   
  
   McGonagall frowned. Was life to horrible for Severus Snape that he couldn’t even thank the boy that he’d lived to tell the tale of his accomplishments? It wasn’t just Harry Potter that was a hero here, it was he as well! After all, Harry Potter might not have even lived this long if it weren’t for Severus protecting him all this time.  
   Snape had clearly done terrible things. He wasn’t the nicest of people, but he had still protected The-Boy-Who-Lived, and now, the young man who had defeated Voldemort. He had done his duty well in protecting Harry, and that shouldn’t go unrewarded.    
   She wouldn’t dwell on it, though, because she knew all too well what Severus was like. It was like he fed off the misery. Instead, she nudged her head towards the plate of untouched food. “Poppy will strike you if you don’t start eating,” she noted. “And by the way, Severus, as Headmistress of Hogwarts, I am offering you your previous commitment as Potions master here, if you are willing to take it when the term picks back up in September,” she said with a curt nod.   
  
   The usually intense eyes widened in surprise. The school—the Ministry—was allowing him to teach still? After what he’d done to Hogwarts—even if he were a spy for Dumbledore? That, he was not expecting.    
   He leant up weakly, though, looking back to the woman. “No Headmaster?” he actually joked, receiving a small tap on the shoulder from the woman. The smallest of smirks creased the corner of his lips as she walked away and he feebly picked up the sandwich that was in front of him.  
   As a Slytherin, an opportunity was an opportunity.  
  
*****   
   In the Great Hall, Harry sat down beside Ginny, Ron and Hermione opposite them. The girl looked at her boyfriend, giving a soft smile. After the battle of Hogwarts, and all the tabloids that were flying around, Harry and Ginny hadn’t had much time together at all.   
   “Where have you been?” she asked, lifting her hand to brush back one of the stray pieces of hair from his face. School was just getting back to normal now, but for the heroes of Hogwarts, it probably never would be completely normal. Especially for Harry. Not after this. The second and final time at ridding the world of Voldemort.   
  
   “The hospital wing,” said Harry, settling in his seat and grabbing a piece of morning cake that was on the bench before them. He’d already eaten breakfast before, but his appetite was still quite big after having suffered so much exhaustion the last few weeks.   
  
   Hermione gave a worried glance. She’d noticed Harry had been spending quite some time down in the hospital wing in hopes that Professor Snape would wake up. They knew the chances were slim, all of them, but even Madam Pomfrey’s words didn’t help ease Harry’s conscience.   
   “Harry…” she started, her voice soft as she had one of the newspapers sitting in front of her.  
  
   “He’s awake,” Harry grinned, all three of them looking at him in astonishment. “Yeah, didn’t really talk to me, but… why would he? It’s Snape,” he laughed.   
  
   “That’s great!” exclaimed Hermione, probably the only one out of the four to actually not be so bias when it came to Professor Snape. Then again, she rarely got detention from him. He’d called her some names in the past, but everyone had come to terms with that in his classes. Besides, after what he’d done for Harry—for all of them—there wasn’t much resentment she could hold.   
   Sure, his reign at Hogwarts wasn’t pleasant, and she’d heard that some of the professors (Death Eaters) had been torturing the students with the Cruciatus curse. But that was all part of the plan so Snape didn’t give his position away. She couldn’t exactly hold that against him. She was Muggle born, she’d seen TV shows before of what double agents had to ‘ignore’.  
   It didn’t mean she approved of it, of course she didn’t! Those poor students had suffered from his blind eye. But even so, she was willing to put that behind her. Somewhat.   
  
   When Harry nodded, Ron looked at him, giving a shrug. “So? What’s happening with him?” he asked, shoving a pastry into his mouth. “Never thought I’d actually feel sorry for the git.” He almost choked on his pastry when an elbow struck him, Hermione scowling.   
  
   “It’s alright, Hermione,” Harry protested. He knew all too well of Ron’s feelings when it came to Professor Snape. They’d all hated him. “I dunno, I suppose we’ll have to wait and find out. Madam Pomfrey kicked me out. Can’t imagine Snape was too happy to see me when he woke up, either.” He was probably the last thing he wanted to see.   
  
   “You’re not… going to ask about your mother, are you?” Hermione’s brows arched in both curiosity and worry when Harry shrugged his shoulders. He’d ended up telling them what he saw in the Pensive after he’d seen it himself, and he’d added in what he saw in their Occlumency classes as well.   
   “You know how private he is, Harry. I mean, no one even _knew_ what he was doing all this time! You can’t just ask him something so personal. Wait until he’s better, maybe now that he’s not under the control of Voldemort, he’ll be nicer or something…”  
  
   “Hermione, there’s no easy way to ask him about his past,” stated Harry. “The longer I wait, the more he’s likely to just never tell me. Maybe while he’s under the influence of potions he’ll be easier to talk to.”  
  
   Ginny looked a little worried. “Why do you want to know so much?” she asked, brushing her long red hair away from her eyes. “This is Professor Snape we’re talking about. I can’t imagine a recount of his life would be very interesting.”  
  
   Looking to his friends, Ron seemed to have the same idea as Ginny, but Hermione was silent, just looking at him. Snape was the closest thing he had to his family. Sirius was gone. Lupin was gone. His mother and father were gone. Even Dumbledore, who would have gladly sat down and told him all about their time in school, was gone. Hagrid was here, but he always got teary when they were all brought up. In the end, they hardly got much out of him.  
   Professor Snape was the only thing left with a connection to them. He just felt like he had to know. He’d seen into the man’s memories, and there was something familiar he felt in them. Snape might be a cruel man with a bad past, but Harry shared that past in more ways than his friends could understand. He didn’t want fame and glory like everyone threw on him. He just wanted to be a normal seventeen year old boy.  
   He frowned. “Professor Snape might not be nice, and we’ve all hated him at one point, but you weren’t there. You didn’t see what I did,” he said, his voice soft, as if he regretted all the negative things he’d seen happen. “I think I at least owe him my thanks. I think we all do. Who knows, if it weren’t for him, I might not even be here— _we_ might not even be here.”   
  
   “Snape wasn’t the one who destroyed all the Horcruxes, Harry,” Ron almost protested.  
  
   “It was _his_ Patronus that led me to The Sword of Gryffindor! If it weren’t for Snape, we wouldn’t have even been able to destroy that locket. And Neville wouldn’t have been able to kill that snake.” Harry’s voice sounded angrier than he meant it to be, he just didn’t like that his friends couldn’t see what Snape had truly done for them. Sure, he knew he wasn’t nice, but he had to look past that. No matter what their views of Snape were, the man had saved them and given them the weapon to kill Horcruxes. He wasn’t going to just forget that.   
   Giving a gruff sigh, he stood back up from his seat. “I’m going to go for a walk,” he said bluntly before turning.   
  
   Ginny went to stand, but Hermione put her hand out, taking her arm and shaking her head. “A lot’s happened in the last few weeks, and Harry’s lost a lot of friends and family, he just needs some time to get everything together,” she said gently, Ginny settling back into her seat, even though seeming quite reluctant to. The red-haired girl nodded and went back to eating her breakfast.   
  
   As Harry walked down the corridor, he spotted McGonagall, walking after her. “Professor—Headmistress,” he corrected, the woman stopping in her tracks to turn to him. “How is Professor Snape?” he asked. “Do you think I could see him?”  
  
   McGonagall put her hands together before her quite formally. “Mister Potter… don’t take this personally, but I don’t think Professor Snape is up to, or used to, having a visitor. Despite his heroic actions, which I know you are wanting to thank him for, I think he still needs time to process what has happened,” she explained. “He’s been awake for merely twenty minutes or so, and I’m sure he’s wanting to spend time with his own thoughts.”   
  
   “Are you going to sack him?” the boy asked, looking up. It seemed to shock the Headmistress, her eyes widening a little.  
  
   “Potter, I never thought I’d see the day that you would be sticking up for Professor Snape, but it just goes to show how much has been accomplished in these few weeks. If he chooses to, he will remain a professor here at Hogwarts, but he’s still weak at the moment, and term does not start until September. I’m sure he will go back to Spinner’s End when he is able to until he returns for classes.”   
  
   “You can’t let him stay here? I mean… he could always come to The Burrow. What if the other Death Eaters attack him? Shouldn’t he be somewhere safe?”   
  
   “I don’t think that’s a very wise idea, Mister Potter,” McGonagall smirked. “I am sure Professor Snape will work something out. As for his safety, most of the loyal Death Eaters have already been sent to Azkaban. I assure you, Professor Snape can take care of himself. Now go on, you can talk to him later. I’m sure your friends are wondering where you are,” she urged, not having seen him already come from the Great Hall.  
   When Harry nodded and turned back around, she frowned, leaning a hand beneath her chin. She understood the last few weeks had been horribly stressful on Harry, but he was acting out about Snape’s position quite a bit. He figured he just wanted questions answered and to see if he was alright. Still, the thought of Severus and Harry having some kind of calm conversation was almost amusing to the older woman.   
   Things really had changed at Hogwarts.


	3. A Spark.

Part Three:  A Spark.  
  
   After getting most of the information out of Poppy about what had happened after his attack, Severus was out of the pyjamas that had been given to him and in black trousers, a white shirt and a dark plum purple vest. It was painful to get dressed, but Poppy had given him the okay to get out of bed and put a sling on his left arm just to hold his shoulder in place and ease the pain. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t going to go around and make the wounds worse.   
   The healing was going along well. Nagini had bitten him quite viciously, and the puncture wounds had finally started forming scabs. They’d be scars for the rest of his life, but his neck was usually covered anyway. Right now, the bandage was still covering it. He wasn’t to wear any heavy material (such as his robes) as it could put too much pressure on the bruising. Poppy was fussy, but she was damn good at her work.   
   Sitting on the side of the bed, it was dinner time at Hogwarts. The hospital wing was empty, and had been for a few days. He supposed most people’s wounds from the battle were fairly quick to heal. The only reason he’d slept so long was because of the Blood Replenishing potions and the sheer destruction of the wounds that were resilient to most healers.   
   Considering he was going to return to work as Head of Slytherin and Potions master, he wasn’t feeling like he wanted to spend all day long in a hospital bed. No matter what Poppy was telling him, he was determined to get up and get back to work. At least to take his mind off everything that had happened.   
   He had wondered if he should even try and thank Potter for saving his life. He didn’t only save his life, but he’d also ripped him from his lovely dream with Lily. He’d much rather be looking into _her_ eyes than his, but there was still something urging him to listen to what Lily had been saying. That even though the war had been won, Harry still needed someone to look after him.   
   Why him? He frowned at the thought. Harry Potter and Severus Snape did not get along. Everybody knew this.   
   So what if he’d protected him numerous amounts of times? He’d done that because he owed Dumbledore, and he owed Lily even more. To come and actually like the boy? Not if he was constantly reminding him of that little prick James. But he did care… and he realised that when Dumbledore had asked him. It even surprised himself. He did care for Harry Potter, but he wasn’t about to tell him that. Plus, it wasn’t like it was much. It was very little.   
   He let his foot fall as he’d put his boots on, his hands leaning on his knees, back straight. What if he saw Potter in the corridor? Did he really owe him a thanks? He supposed, considering he _had_ saved his life. Not much of a life anymore, though.   
   Albus was gone… He’d been here to show his loyalties, and Albus had become almost like a father for him. As pathetic as it sounded, he would have followed him anywhere. He owed him his life. It wasn’t like Albus made him feel any better about Lily dying, either. He’d used it as leverage to make him continue spying. And like a damn fool, he caved every time. Because it was true.   
   Shaking the thoughts, he gently pushed himself up. Because of the potions, it took a moment for the blood in his body to get settled, and he stood there for a moment, ready to sit back down if he needed to.  
   He was hit with a horridly strong dizzy spell, and he leant his free arm onto the table, catching his breath for a moment. His eyes closed, his dark hair covering them as he looked at his hand, it going out of focus. But he pushed himself up.  
  
   “Severus! I said you could get out of bed, not get dressed and walk about the castle!” Pomfrey hissed as she just came from her office. She looked mortified that he was out of bed. Although he’d gotten a lot of rest due to sleeping for a week, that didn’t matter. He was still injured. And though the potions were working faster now, it _still_ didn’t matter! _He was injured!_   
  
   Brushing his hair away, the man scowled weakly. “I am just going for dinner…” he urged coldly, looking at the woman as he finally stood up straight. He stood his ground, despite his weakness, the woman giving him a rather nasty glare.   
  
   “If you’re not back within two hours, I’ll be sending the ghosts and elves to find you, and then I’ll be tying you to the bed. Understood?” the witch snapped.  
  
   Severus merely groused, but allowed the witch to get back to work as he slowly removed himself from the hospital wing.   
   He couldn’t take the long, hard and purposeful strides as he usually did whilst walking the Hogwarts corridors. Instead, he had to walk relatively slowly as his chest and neck was still quite sore.   
   He brushed his arm sleeves down so that his hands were almost all the way covered as he walked, putting his one free hand in his pants pocket as he walked from the hospital wing. He needed to get back to his own quarters in the dungeons and sort out his own work for the upcoming year at Hogwarts before he’d eat dinner.  
   He had been told by Minerva that he should have tea in the Great Hall tonight. Something about it would be best if he joined as announcements were being made official and he should be there to hear them. He was sure that he would be confined to the hospital bed if Minerva hadn’t told Poppy this already. She had seemed to give in fairly easily in his books.  
   He was halfway to the Great Hall when he saw the back of Potter’s head. Alone? Strange. He would have figured Granger and Weasley were with him at a time like this, but nonetheless, if he was going to approach him, he’d prefer it be now whilst he was alone rather than with his little friends.  
   “Potter,” he said, though it coming out much weaker than he was expecting. It still seemed to catch the Gryffindor’s attention, causing him to turn around. He stopped as he reached him, feeling terribly awkward. He’d have no problem usually, saying something snarky and taking off points for him giving him cheek; however, he remembered what Lily had said in his dream. Or his afterlife experience? Harry needed looking after still. From what, he had no clue. But the least he could do was be polite.   
   Now, Severus wasn’t one to particularly like children. He knew first-hand how nasty they could be. Sometimes he questioned why he even became a professor at Hogwarts, but then he had protection here himself (not to mention protecting Harry and serving Dumbledore), and he was very gifted in potions. He had no trouble with sharing his passion with others—as long as they could do it right. Plus, he had no other home. Spinner’s End was a deadbeat Muggle town. Hogwarts had always felt more of a home than anywhere else.    
  
   Looking up, Harry was surprised to see Professor Snape approaching him. Wasn’t he supposed to be resting? He gave him a quick double-over with his eyes, noticing the robes from him were missing. Usually he wore pretty covering clothes, long pants, the whole coat thing. It was… different to see him in a white shirt rather than the very dark purple or navy, excluding the vest.   
   “Professor…” he said, his eyes looking up. “How are you feeling?” It sounded odd coming from Harry’s lips, but the last few days had been very odd for him all over. Getting back to what seemed to be a ‘normal’ life for him, the fear of Voldemort coming back to kill him gone. Of course, he still had nightmares of all the deaths he’d seen since he entered Hogwarts, but they weren’t nearly as bad as they had been before.   
  
   Snape lifted a brow, motioning to his slung arm. “Getting there,” he supposed. Now was the awkward part, trying to say a thank you without it seeming too… pleasant.  
  
   Sensing the tension, Harry just nodded. “It’s fine, Professor,” he said, not having expected anything from Snape. This was Snape after all. The fact that he’d even come out to try and say a thank you was enough for Harry to hear. He didn’t want to be continuously put in the spotlight all of the time and thanked for all the good he’d done anyway.   
   To Harry, it just seemed natural to care. Even for Snape. He couldn’t just let him die like that. Plus, he should have been thanking Snape for everything he’d done. Not the other way around.  
   “I’m glad I did it,” he continued, which seemed to make the older man only glare at him more curiously. “Hogwarts lost too many already. I wasn’t going to have another innocent person die for me. Especially from Voldemort.”   
  
   The detest in Harry’s voice wasn’t a surprise to Snape any longer; however, it was surprising to hear Potter lower himself to the people around him. He figured the boy would be all up in the face of glory.   
   Apparently not.   
   Severus knew he was not an innocent man, though. His left fingers gripped the sling that his arm was in at the thought of the Dark Mark being scarred on him forever. Everyone would always know he was a Death Eater at one point in time, even if his loyalties had changed. He still had once been a servant to the Dark Lord.   
   “I hardly call myself innocent, Potter,” he murmured darkly. Although Harry had never seen the mark on his arm up close except in his fourth year when he exposed it, he knew the boy understood what he was motioning to when he moved his left arm a little.   
  
   “You saved us more than you know, Professor,” Harry confessed. “I don’t care if you did it for you, or Dumbledore, or even my mother. You still put your life in danger for all of us. Time after time. I should be thanking you,” he said forcefully, as if he’d thought on this for a long time now. And he had.   
   He was just so tired of all the death that surrounded him. All those people and creatures that had fought for him—to kill Voldemort just so he wouldn’t die. He knew it was bigger than that. He knew it was the world as well, but Voldemort wouldn’t have destroyed so much if he had just given himself up so much earlier in the fight.   
  
   Snape just looked at the boy, not sure in what to say. Maybe Potter was more like his mother than he thought he was. He certainly wasn’t being cocky like his father would have been about saving the world. He was giving others gratitude and recognition for their deeds. Then again, he never did see the actual battle. He’d just seen the Dark Lord’s destruction the previous night before he was attacked. Everything else was blank.  
  
   “Does it hurt?” Harry asked, looking to the man’s arm. “I mean the Mark. Malfoy said his was gone, just a scar, but that it still felt raw.”   
  
   Confused to why Potter was even asking, Snape gave a small nod of the head. “It does, as Mister Malfoy put it, feel raw,” he told the young man. Though he doubted it would last much longer. He was also sensitive as he’d just woken up from being asleep for a week.   
  
   “And the bites? They’re healing? Madam Pomfrey kicked me out so I couldn’t ask when you woke up.”  
  
   “Why is it any of your concern?” Snape finally asked, getting snappy. He frowned though, realising Potter was just looking out for his wellbeing. Looking out for? Merlin, that just didn’t sound right. Potter and his friends couldn’t give two dunces about him, so why was he asking now?  
  
   Harry just stared at the man, eyes narrowing a little. “Because you could have died,” he said, as if it had been obvious. “Never mind,” he muttered, turning around.  
  
   Snape grabbed the boy’s arm (much to his own pain) and stopped him, though uncertain to his own actions—those green eyes looking angrily into his own. He and Potter clearly had a nasty past, a past that the both of them could probably never overcome, but looking into those eyes made his body somewhat loosen up.  
   His hand was tight on the Gryffindor’s arm, and he looked down to the loose clothing before returning his hand back to himself and ignoring the surge of power that he felt shared between them.   
   “Don’t think I am not thankful for one second, Mister Potter,” he snapped. Although it was a compliment, it didn’t quite sound like it (and he knew that), but it was the best the boy was going to get from him.   
  
   Shrugging his oversized jacket back over his shoulder, Harry just pursed his lips together, nodding. “Fine. Okay,” he said, his body tingling a little from Snape’s hand being against him. For a brief moment, the two just looked at one another, clearly both having felt the same pulse of angry magic that had struck the two of them from the contact.  
   “Anything else?” he asked, watching the man’s eyes look him up and down, as if judging him.   
  
   “Why do you wear such unfitted clothing?” Snape asked, just glaring at the young wizard. He returned his hand to his pocket, making no attempt to even explain or acknowledge the electrifying pulse that had been shared between them. He figured it was just heated magic between two angry and stubborn wizards.   
  
   Harry looked down at himself, shrugging. “Why is it any of your concern?” he retorted, repeating the man’s words in a smart-arse tone.   
  
   Snape felt himself stiffen in frustration. “It’s not,” he said as if he didn’t care, his face unreadable before turning away. He stopped when Potter spoke again, though, only turning his head slightly, though still unable to see the boy.  
  
   “Nice to see you’ve got some colour… Professor.”   
  
   As he heard the other’s footsteps turn, Snape turned over his shoulder gently to see the boy walking down the corridor. He smirked a little before deciding the dungeons could wait.   
  
*****      
   In the Great Hall, Harry sat himself in his usual seat, opposite Ron and Hermione and beside Ginny. As he sat down, he felt the girl’s hand lay against his, and his eyes looked down, feeling his lips twist a little.   
   He didn’t know why, but things with Ginny just didn’t feel… right anymore. They’d been dating for a while, but even the kissing seemed to be strained. He knew it wasn’t Ginny’s fault. Actually, it was his. He felt like the whole thing had been rushed, and he didn’t really know how to go about relationships. He was pretty hopeless at it to be perfectly honest.   
   Since he was little, he was picked on and beaten by anyone in school. The first time he’d had real friends was with Ron and Hermione. Hogwarts was his home. And now that the Dursleys had left, he couldn’t exactly just squat in the house—although he assumed once they found out about the news they’d move right back in. He’d need somewhere to live for a while in the holidays.  
   Ron had welcomed him to The Burrow these holidays, and so he’d accepted without hesitation. He loved it there. It was magical and, of course, he could help rebuild everything back to normal since the Death Eaters had attacked.  
   Hermione was doing the same thing. In fear of her parents being attacked, she’d completely removed herself from their lives, and they now lived in Australia. She would be living with Ron for as long as possible now. May as well be a permanent thing with them dating, he figured.   
   But that made him think about what could happen with him and Ginny. Things with Ginny just seemed hasty. He knew that she had had a crush on him since before even meeting him, and he felt that letting her down may not have been the right thing. So they began dating, and he had had feelings for her. Strong ones at one point in time. But now… Harry wasn’t certain that he liked her anymore. Of course he liked her, but he didn’t feel like he had _romantic_ feelings for her.   
   Even when they had hugged and kissed, there was still a strain there, and he couldn’t really pinpoint it. Except for the fact that he just didn’t feel comfortable in a situation like that.   
   In many ways, Ginny was more like a little sister, and he didn’t want to date his ‘little sister’. He just sighed, and instead, turned his head to the plate of roast beef in front of him.   
  
   Guessing why Harry was later than the rest of them, Hermione smiled a little. “How’s Professor Snape?” she asked, Harry’s green eyes on her. “I saw you two in the corridor before I came here. I had to take a second look, though. I didn’t recognise him without his teaching robes.” She laughed a little, Ron looking at her. “Actually, he looked rather… nice. Well, despite being ill…”  
  
   “Nice?” Ron asked, a brow arching.   
  
   “Well, why don’t you look for yourself?” the girl said, nudging her head to the front of the hall. Professor Snape had just made it inside, slowly sitting down in one of the seats next to the Headmistress.   
   Despite the bandages that were clearly around his neck and the sling on his arm, Hermione thought he looked pretty good in just his vest and shirt. Of course, like always, his hands were almost covered up by the white shirt, but even so, seeing him in a lighter colour was something nice—not that she found herself attracted to any teacher here (excluding her girlish crush on Lockhart back in their second year). Snape wasn’t exactly the most attractive of people, but he did look… more human than usual.   
  
   Turning his head, Ron saw the Potions master at the front. “Bloody hell, I guess this means he’ll be teaching again.”   
  
   “McGonagall offered him a position back in Potions,” Harry stated, nodding gently. He looked up the front of the room and gave a light smile, remembering the odd static that had been shared between them.   
   After seeing Snape’s memories, Harry had a bit of a different perspective on him now. Especially the memory where Dumbledore had asked if he’d come to care for him. Snape never really answered, but he was positive Snape didn’t hate him as much as he led on. He was just stubborn and enjoyed being cruel to any Gryffindor. He was a Slytherin after all.  
  
   “It’s settled, then,” Ron sighed in exasperation, “I’m not coming back for my N.E.W.T’s.” He yelped as he felt a sharp pain hit his leg as Hermione kicked him. “What? You really want me coming back when he’s teaching here again? You’re mental!”   
  
   “If either of you want to become an Auror, the both of you will be coming back when school starts in September,” Hermione insisted. “You can’t be an Auror if you haven’t passed the exams, and Potions is one of them. So suck it up, Ronald.”   
  
   Ron groaned, but Harry just snickered, looking back at the professor. When he saw him take a glimpse at him, he looked away almost immediately, feeling strangely awkward. He turned back in his seat and leant a hand against his cheek, feeling them warm up a little.   
   He didn’t know what the static between them had been, and it had made him question if maybe it was something to do with Voldemort or something. Or the Dark Mark. What if it was something bad?   
   Maybe Hermione would know. But he didn’t want to bring it up here, not with Ron and Ginny. Plus, Snape was the only one besides Malfoy that knew about the Mark. And he wasn’t going to talk to Malfoy about it. He’d grab Hermione by herself after they’d eaten. Who knows, it could have been nothing.   
  
   As the Headmistress stood from her seat, all the students who were still at Hogwarts hushed and McGonagall informed them of what was happening with the school. Classes wouldn’t resume for the remainder of the school year, and the ones who wanted to start afresh with their final year could do so on September 1st.   
   Hogwarts was going to be open still for those who lived here during the holidays. Some teachers would stay back, herself included, and others would go back home. A few more, like Hagrid, of course, would be staying back as well. Hogwarts wasn’t just a school to many, but a home to them as well.   
   A few awards were handed out for exceptional bravery by the Minister of Magic himself to some of the students and teachers who helped protect Hogwarts and defeat Voldemort. Of course, Harry Potter and his friends were in the group (receiving the Order of Merlin—First Class) , as well as Neville for having killed Nagini (a Horcrux). Even Snape—who seemed hesitant to even stand—was given First Class for his courage in being a spy for Dumbledore, and his now unquestionable loyalty.    
   Clearly the man wasn’t expecting anything, and he hadn’t prepared a speech, so McGonagall said it was fine for him to stay seated as he was still injured. He seemed more than happy with that, and Harry couldn’t help but feel a smile crease his lips as the professor had seemed so awkward about the whole thing. Snape really wasn’t used to the attention. He’d probably skipped over the fact that he’d even been mentioned in the _Daily Prophet._  
   Of course, there were sceptical people still out there, saying that Snape could have done better to protect Hogwarts and stop things, like the torture of student-to-student, but many people realised that he had never wished that upon anymore. In fact, it was the Carrows who had done so freely with their classes. If Snape had given away any kind of sentiment, they would have overthrown him and done a lot worse.   
   When the feast was ended, Harry let Ron and Ginny go back to the Gryffindor common-room. He wanted to stay back a little bit. Not for any particular reason, he just wasn’t ready to leave yet. He wasn’t ready to go to bed.   
  
   “Harry, are you alright? You’ve been very quiet tonight,” Hermione said, a book in front of her. Luna and Neville were still beside them. She’d noticed that he and Ginny hadn’t been very close lately, but she figured Harry was still getting over the deaths that had happened. They’d all fallen quiet at some point in time in silent mourning for their friends and family, and Harry had lost a lot, and Ron had lost his brother, too.   
  
   Looking up from his plate, Harry brushed a hand against the front of his head, his dark hair flicking back for a moment to show the lightning bolt scar. “Hermione… do you know what it means when… when you touch someone and you feel, like… an electric shock from them? But… it’s not just that, it… it’s like…”   
   He didn’t know how to explain it, and in no way did he want to tell Hermione that it had happened with Professor Snape when he’d grabbed him. At the same time, he didn’t want Hermione thinking he was talking about Ginny either.   
  
   Closing the book before her, Hermione gave a bit of a shrug. They were both Muggle-raised, so they could understand things that others might not be able to in the wizarding world. Especially a simple thing like an electric shock from metal or fabric. It was spring after all.   
   “It depends what it was like,” she said. “I mean, it’s spring here, so electric shocks can happen between anyone who touches. Especially with wearing our school robes,” she explained. “But… that’s more likely in the Muggle world. If you’re talking about the wizarding world, a shock could mean a number of things. It could mean that whoever you touched could have a bond with you in something similar, or it could mean a spark,” she said.   
  
   What? A bond? Harry tried not to seem surprised, but he clearly didn’t do a good job at hiding it as Hermione asked why.  
  
   “Did you and Ginny…?”  
  
   “No!” Harry blurted out almost too loudly. He settled himself back down after he realised his voice had raised. “No, it… I wasn’t asking about me,” he lied. “I was just wondering about it.” There was no way in Hell that he and Professor Snape had formed some kind of a bond by him saving his life. It was just an electric shock for sure. Nothing more, nothing less.  
  
   “Harry… “ Hermione sighed, giving her friend a worried look. “I know that everything in the last few weeks has been hard. I know you’re missing them… Sirius and Lupin,” she said, putting her hands onto the table, “but things will get better. We’ve still got each other, and Ron and Ginny, Neville and Luna.”  
  
   Despite just being beside them, Neville and Luna were stuck in their own conversation about some strange plant. Harry was thankful for that. But he scratched at the back of his head. The last few weeks had been very bad on all of them, and it probably wasn’t fair on him to put Hermione through this as well. It was nothing.   
   He smiled. “Yeah… I know,” he said.   
  
   “I get the feeling it’s not really about that, though.” She gave a soft sigh. “I’ve noticed you and Ginny haven’t been… well… close the last few days. If you don’t get yourself together soon, and let her in… I don’t know how much longer she can take this.”  
  
   Harry looked up once more from his plate. “What? Has she said something…?” he asked, both curious and shocked. Part of him wished that she had said something, though. He honestly didn’t know if he really was into Ginny anymore. He didn’t want to hurt her, and most of all, he didn’t want Ron to hate him because of it.   
   Ron was his best friend. After all the things they’d been through for them to actually date, and now wanting to end their relationship? The last thing he needed right now was to lose another friend. Maybe Ginny felt the same way? Maybe it could be mutual…?  
  
   Hermione frowned, looking sad. “Harry… with what’s happened, and with Fred’s death… I think she really needs you right now, but you haven’t exactly been there for her. I’m not sure what she’s thinking anymore. She… doesn’t really like talking about it, to be honest.”   
   Softly shrugging her shoulders, she didn’t really know what else to say. “I think that maybe the both of you should talk and sort things out, because if you don’t, then I think you’re just going to slowly drift apart. You don’t want things to be awkward at The Burrow, do you?”   
  
   She had a point. Hermione always had a point, and they were usually good ones. He knew he’d still be welcome there anyway—if they did break up—but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be horribly awkward for the both of them (and everyone else).   
   “Yeah… maybe you’re right,” he murmured, folding his arms onto the table. It was sad, really, to think of losing someone else. Not that he’d want to lose Ginny as a friend. He still liked her, he just didn’t love her. He never had really been _in_ love with her in the first place. Somehow it all just felt like a phase, like with Cho. Like everyone wanted it to happen, and so it did.   
   But he had had feelings for her, and he knew that. They’d seemed to come out of nowhere, though. Like all of a sudden one day he liked her. It was all so strange. He didn’t want to like anyone after Cho and what happened with Cedric, and so much chaos was going on with his life that he didn’t think it was possible. And yet, one morning, after he and Ginny had been talking the previous night, he realised he liked her a lot.   
  
   Curiously, Hermione perked up a little. “Why did you ask about the shock thing?” she inquired. “You do know that if this happened, if you had a ‘spark’ with someone, and your magic touched with this other person… it could mean something much deeper than you realise.”   
  
   “Like what?” Harry asked, green eyes widening a little behind his rounded glasses. He thought she said it just meant a bond between them. Like a friendship, right? And what was she talking about magic touching? That sounded a lot more intimate that he wanted it to. Suddenly he felt a cold sweat stick against him.  
  
   “Think about it, Harry,” she almost shouted, though her voice still soft enough so she didn’t grab anyone else’s attention, “If your magic sparks with someone else’s… what else could that possibly mean?”   
   When Harry just looked at her dumbfounded, she rolled her eyes and gave a rather exaggerated sigh. “It means your inner magic has found its match!” she pushed. “Even Muggles believe in soul-mates, Harry. Well, in the wizard world, it’s more intimate than that. We have certain strands of magic in us, and those strands can be very powerful. Sometimes when people meet, or something pulls them together, their magic can latch onto each other’s. They’ve made a bond. An… intimate bond, if you get my drift.”   
  
   What!? Okay, now Harry was certain it was just an electric shock that had happened between him and Professor Snape. If it was anything intimate… that was just… NO! No, it wasn’t anything like that! Professor Snape was older than him! He was a professor! He was… Just no. That was wrong! Not to mention he was a guy!   
   Feeling his heart thump into his eardrums, he felt a shiver go down his spine at the thought. Voldemort, he could take on any day rather than this. This… confusion! No, it was nothing. Like he said before, it was just an electric shock. It couldn’t possibly be anything else.   
   “I see…” he murmured as he tried to gather the chaos that was flying around in his head. He leant back, unable to even look at the head table to where he knew Professor Snape was still sitting. Instead, he tried to act casual about the whole thing, as if he were generally interested.  
   “So, has that happened to you and Ron?” he asked, “I mean, the whole magic connection thing?” Maybe turning the subject onto Hermione would make her more comfortable about talking freely of it instead of suspecting him of anything else.  
  
   A little surprised, the witch sat back a little. “No, but… I wouldn’t expect it to,” she laughed. “These things usually take a long time to form, Harry. Only on the off chance, just like Muggles, is it love at first sight. Just the same with sparking your magic. Usually it forms later on in the relationship. And sometimes not at all. Just because you don’t spark with your partner doesn’t mean you don’t love them and want to spend the rest of your life with them,” she made clear. “It’s very rare magic. Extremely, actually… These days you hardly hear of it at all.”  
  
   Feeling as if he’d almost offended her, Harry apologised softly, but she seemed to shrug it off like it was nothing. Truth be told, while Ron and Hermione were cute and all together, Ron was still a bit of a daft headed boy.   
   “So, it can happen to anyone? Like… two girls? Or two guys?” he asked curiously, his hands going together in front of him. He picked up a piece of dessert and ate it as casually as possible, though he put it down when Hermione gave him a strange look.  
  
   “You really don’t know much about the wizarding world, do you?” she laughed. When Harry just looked at her with a confused expression, she went on to explain. “Muggle and Wizard customs are completely different, Harry. I know, I was quite shocked when I read it,” she sighed, “but while the Muggle world doesn’t come to terms with same-sex couples, the Wizard world has been rid of that since… forever!”   
  
   What? So… relationships between same sexes were completely normal in the wizarding world? “Then… why haven’t I seen it before?” he asked curiously. “I mean, it’s not hard to see some of the relationships around here. People are snogging in the corridors all the time,” he laughed.  
  
   Hermione gave a knowing laugh. “Harry, it’s all around you, you’re just choosing to ignore it. It’s fine, you didn’t know, you probably were just ignorant to it. A lot of Muggle-borns are. But if you look closely, you’ll see it. There’s some girls in Hufflepuff that are quite fond of each other, and then I know there’s two boys in Gryffindor.”  
  
   “What!? Really?” Harry’s eyes seemed to widen even more at that. Had he really been so ignorant to that that he didn’t even realise there was a same sex couple in their own house?   
   “Blimey…” he murmured, shaking his head. He never was good with the whole romantic thing. Even with Ginny. But what could anyone expect from a boy who lived in a cupboard for eleven years of his life and who had only started getting friends when he joined Hogwarts?  
   “What else have I missed?” he asked, shaking his head lightly. He wasn’t completely stupid, he knew how things worked. Although he had no parents to teach him about what this stuff consisted of, he was still a teenage boy. He found out by himself, not to mention overhearing conversations by others. Plus, he slept next to Ron in the common-room. Although they’d never spoken directly about it, Ron had older brothers who liked to tease him about Hermione.  
  
   Hermione flushed a little. Although she was quite professional when she got on topic, this was a conversation she didn’t exactly wish to be the one to tell Harry in.   
   “Maybe you should talk to Ron about this. He’s a boy… it… might be easier,” she said.   
  
   “Right… yeah… sorry about that,” said Harry, feeling his own cheeks burning. He didn’t realise he might have been putting her in such an awkward position. “Alright, then… I… Should we get back to the common-room?”   
   When Hermione nodded, they both stood. Half of the students had already left the Hall, so he figured it was time to get back to the dormitories anyway.   
   He rubbed his arm as he remembered the sharp twinge that had come from Snape’s hand as they’d touched, and before walking from the room, he looked up to the High Table, Professor Snape’s dark eyes on his own.   
   Immediately, Harry turned away as he felt an awkward heat rush through his body. He really needed to get some sleep.


	4. Aurors

Chapter Four: Aurors.   
  
   Severus sat quietly most of the night at the dinner table in the Great Hall. He was still very tired from the attack, and he didn’t feel much like eating—even if he knew he should. He’d still have to spend another night in the hospital wing, even if he wanted to go back to his personal quarters in the dungeon.   
   Beside him, Minerva McGonagall was chatting quite happily to Hagrid about what the next year would bring for the both of them. New witches and wizards to sort. The Sorting Ceremony was always quite an exciting thing at Hogwarts. Of course, as a Head of House, Severus knew all about having to welcome new students into the houses and the school.  
   Although he wasn’t too fussy on children, he was still a good professor, and still a good Head of House. He always told the members of Slytherin that if they did need him for anything, he would be more than welcome to help them. Maybe not in the nicest of ways—due to his usually snarky behaviour—but nonetheless, he was still there for them. Plus, he favoured his Snakes over the other houses. Anything to let them win the House Cup at the end of the year. Not to mention Slytherites were no way near as airheaded as other houses, like Gryffindor. Sarcastic, maybe, but at least they didn’t flaunt around like they owned the place.  
   Looking down the half empty hallway, he caught sight of Potter and his friends. He hadn’t completely disregarded what had happened between the two of them before coming here. He’d thought nothing of it at the time, though curious and surprised, but now looking at the side of the boy’s face, he wondered what _had_ happened.   
   He was a skilled wizard, and a powerful one. He gathered that his own anger, along with Potter’s, had caused a spark in their magic. A spark that was a negative one, not a positive one. Maybe even a spark to let one another know that they were both angry and hot-headed. Although Snape was much more controlling when it came to his emotions and his remarks, Harry was not. He was a heated individual, and he’d felt that go through his body when he’d touched the young man on the arm.   
   Moving his hand beneath his chin, he watched Potter carefully. Overly large clothes, messy hair. He was hardly ever presentable. Not like his mother had been. Lily had always kept herself very presentable, very clean… Why he was thinking of this, he did not know. But the dream he had had, or the presence of her in his mind… it was quite powerful.   
   She had told him that Harry needed someone to look out for him. Now that the Dark Lord was out of the picture, he hardly thought Potter would be needing looking after. He had his group of friends, not to mention the Weasley girl who clung off him all the time like a wet cloth. Not that he cared.   
   He was surprised when those green eyes gave him a quick glance, and immediately, all he could think was that he was the discussion at the table right now. He was sure it was nothing pleasant. Potter and his gang were never pleasant. Well, Granger was an exception. He may not have shown it, but he did respect her intelligence at her age. It reminded him of himself at such an age. Although she did like to show she was a know-it-all. Surely Potter had enough protection in that group. He could hardly see why Lily thought he would be that protection for her son.  
   He mentally shook his head, looking grimly at his plate. There was nothing out of that dream. It’s all it had been. A dream! Nothing more, nothing less. Just a hope that he could see her, touch her, feel her soft skin against his. And that soft kiss, he would never forget.   
   Sitting back in his seat, he was silent most of the night, having put his small pin of a medal into his pants pocket. A medal of any kind he was not expecting, let alone the Order of Merlin—nor the actual applause. He didn’t exactly take pride in his actions. He may have risked his life to keep Lily’s son safe, but he hardly did anything for the other students.   
   His role as Headmaster was nothing to be taken lightly. He’d still allowed students to be tortured, even if it would give him away if he said for it to stop. He was just thankful he didn’t have to stand up front or anything. That meant he would have had to stand with Potter. No thanks.   
   Getting lethargic, he leant his cheek against his knuckles, which must have caught the attention of McGonagall beside him, asking if he was alright. He just grunted, feeling his eyelids getting heavy.   
  
   Standing, McGonagall gently put her hand onto his shoulder. “I will take you back to the hospital wing, Severus. I think you’ve been out of bed for long enough. You still need more replenishing potion,” she informed.  
   Helping the man up, she led him down to the hospital wing. Their walk was quiet, but she didn’t urge Severus to talk. He was so sluggish that he leant on her most of the way down. Probably something he wasn’t comfortable doing, especially knowing that Professor Snape wasn’t one to like any show of weakness in himself.   
   As they reached the wing, she helped Severus sit down on the bed, and she gathered Poppy from her office room. They were both much older than Severus, and they’d had their fair share of discussions about the man from when he was a boy to now. After all, she was the one who sorted him into Slytherin with the Sorting Hat. They’d seen him grow up here.  
  
   Madam Pomfrey went to her usual duties, checking on her patient. “Let me check your dressing,” she said, pushing down the collar on Snape’s neck. Severus was too tired to protest, and he leant his neck to the side for an easier access, brushing his hair lazily away.   
   With gentle fingers, she lifted the bandage and looked at the wounds. She grabbed something from her pocket, pulling out the stopper of the phial and dribbling it over her fingers before tenderly massaging it onto the wounds.   
   Because Nagini’s fangs prevented most healers to work, the wounds were very slow to actually heal. But since the blood was replenishing in Severus, the potions were starting their work in getting rid of all the toxins.  
   Poppy completely removed the bandages, pulling Severus’ shirt down his arm. She did stop for a moment as she felt his hand grab her wrist as she lowered the sleeve too much and revealed the scar on his arm.  
  
   Grumpily, Severus pulled the sleeve back up, covering the Dark Mark before settling back and allowing Poppy to give him a new bandage around his shoulder and neck. It took a few minutes for the process to be done in such a Muggle manner, but soon enough she’d stepped back.  
  
   “This should be your last replenisher,” she noted, holding a small phial of potion. She handed it to the man who drank it. “Now, get into your nightclothes and get some rest. You look awfully pale, Severus, even for your complexion.”   
  
   As Poppy drew the curtains around the bed, Snape didn’t even feel like getting undressed. He did remove his vest though, tossing it onto the small table. He left his shirt on and passed out before he could even change into his nightclothes and get beneath the sheets.  
  
*****      
   It was some time into the night when Severus found himself trapped in a nightmare of the night on the Astronomy Tower. Sparkling blue eyes looked at him over those half-moon shaped spectacles. His heart pulled as Albus Dumbledore begged him for the secret message.  
   “Severus, please,” the old wizard said, tears glistening in his eyes. He didn’t want to do this. He _never_ wanted to do this. Albus Dumbledore was the only man that ever trusted him! He took him in when he needed help the most! And here he was, begging him to kill him.   
   He couldn’t hesitate, though, but the look in his eyes said it all. How much he didn’t want to kill him even if he knew it was the only way that the Dark Lord would trust him completely. And as the green light filled his eyes, Severus’s own eyes shot open.  
   Panting, the man swallowed hard as he felt sweat against his aching body. He stared at the ceiling for what seemed a long time, catching his breath as he remembered the murder he had committed. Dumbledore would have said it was a good deed of his, to put an old fool out of his misery the way he had. Quick and painless. But Severus knew better. No matter how much Albus had wanted this, he would always regret it. He’d murdered the greatest wizard that had ever lived.   
   Leaning up, he realised he was wearing a dark grey skivvy instead of his white dress shirt—which was now neatly folded on the table beside his bed. Poppy must have changed him in his sleep. Well, with the use of magic, many things were possible.   
   He felt the sweat on his neck, and he checked the bandage to see if it was still securely on, which it was. The heaviness he felt in his chest was something else, though. Something he would live with for a very long time.   
   Brushing back a thick strand of sweaty hair from his face, he gently pushed himself up and off the bed. Apparently Poppy had put him in some much more comfortable pants as well, his trousers also sitting neatly folded on the table.   
   Through the window, the moonlight was casting a great light into the hall, and he approached it, leaning an elbow onto the concrete sill. Outside, the grounds of Hogwarts castle were silent and unmoving. It wouldn’t have even seemed like a war had gone on. The things magic could do.   
   He just gazed outside. Part of him didn’t want to return to sleep in knowing that he would dream about what he had done to Dumbledore. It also reminded him of the nights he had spent here as a child. Blasted James Potter and Sirius Black. Not to mention that little rat Pettigrew—no pun intended.   
   At the same time, the moonlight reminded him of Remus Lupin. Although the werewolf had never personally attacked him, he’d made it clear to hate the entire group. And now Lupin was dead, with the rest of them. He really was the only person left that had any kind of contact with Harry Potter’s family. Not that he’d call it a good kind of contact.  
   Leaning on his elbows, he looked at both of his pale hands, remembering the static of magic that had come from the Gryffindor. Had it actually meant anything at all? Had their magic really connected? He knew the boy was Lily’s son, and that Lily was the love of his life, but the only thing he and her son shared were those gleaming green eyes.  
   Somehow, they even looked as gorgeous on Harry. No—what? That wasn’t right. He was just a boy! He didn’t care that the wizarding world had different morels to the Muggle one, but Potter was just as self-centred as his imbecilic father. Running into trouble all the time! It was pathetic. How he and Potter could have even shared some kind of magical experience was ridiculous beyond belief.   
   Snape scowled under his breath, putting his hands back down and folding them against his chest as gently as possible. The last thing he needed right now was to think about Potter.   
   So he’d come to care for the boy, but it was nothing more than just protecting him. And even that he was hesitant to do. Sometimes he enjoyed watching him getting into trouble. Served the little prat right.   
   He frowned as he looked back out over the grounds. Even with the threat of the Dark Lord gone, Hogwarts didn’t feel the same without Albus Dumbledore. He figured it was the same for many of the students and teachers as well. And it was his fault.  
   How others could forgive him for that was beyond him. And he was positive there were students and teachers out there who did blame him, and why shouldn’t they? He never was black and white with his intentions. They probably still thought he was a coward, or wanted his place, or still worshipped the Dark Lord. Well, they could think what they wished, because he was the one that knew the truth, and that was all that mattered to him. He’d never cared for popularity.  
   As he turned to head back to bed, he stopped as he saw Minerva McGonagall standing beside the bed that he had come from. He stiffened a little, his hands going by his side.   
  
   “I miss him, too, Severus,” said the elderly witch, “But you mustn’t blame yourself.” She approached the younger man but walked past him to where Severus had just been standing, looking out the window.   
   A soft sigh came from her lips. Albus Dumbledore was one of her greatest friends as well. Although Severus saw the man more as a mentor and a fatherly figure as the lack of any, Minerva saw Albus as her best friend.   
  
   Moving his hands together, Severus slowly turned to face the woman, her usually tight knitted hair draped down her shoulders while she wore her nightgown. It honestly wasn’t the first time they’d seen one another out of their usual daily clothes. And as much as many saw them as mortal enemies due to their houses, they actually respected one another greatly.   
   “I murdered one of the most brilliant wizards of all time… How could I possibly not blame myself?” he asked, his usual snarky voice actually quite soft in the night. Of course he blamed himself; he had been the one to do it. He had killed Dumbledore. No one else. Him. Alone. And Dumbledore had said he could handle it. Why? Because he was already evil?   
  
   Turning to look at the wizard, Minerva frowned. “Severus, Albus entrusted you to do this for him. Does that not say anything in how much you meant to him?”  
  
   Meant to him? Snape scoffed. “I was nothing but a pawn to both the Dark Lord and Dumbledore. I had no choice. In a moment of weakness, I agreed to kill him when the time came. He never once thought I wouldn’t want to do it. And why? Because I’m marked, like it didn’t matter to kill him at all,” he snapped, disregarding the fact that he should be taking care of himself right now.  
  
   The older woman’s brows lifted in shock. “You dare think that Albus didn’t care for you?” she shot at him. “Albus showed more trust in you than any of us. Even myself, Severus! When I should have trusted him, and instead I went against him, and I attacked you like a traitor. He gave you that duty because he knew you could do it for him! Even if it hurt to do so! He believed in you.”   
  
   “Because I was already a criminal!” yelled the Slytherin, ignoring the shot of pain that went up his throat. “Did he for one second think that I would regret it!? Did he for one second think what I would have to live with after doing away with his life!? I will live with regret for the rest of my life, Minerva. People will scowl when they see me. The man who slaughtered the greatest wizard in the world, Severus Snape! As if I don’t have enough misery in my life,” he muttered, folding his arms.    
  
   Minerva shook her head in disbelief. If this were any other argument with the man, she would have no problem with tossing smart remarks back and forth between them, but the death of Albus Dumbledore was not something to joke about. This was serious, and she of all people knew how close the two of them had been. Although very secretive, she was not blind to their meetings and trust.   
   She let her stiff body relax as she approached him and put a hand to his shoulder as he sat on the bed. “Severus… Albus chose you not because of your past crimes, but because he knew you would do the right thing. He was dying,” she said gently, watching his face closely for any sign of emotion. He was just blank, though, his expression unreadable.   
  
   Severus knew Dumbledore was dying; he had been the one to examine him. Why hadn’t Dumbledore come to him before? He could have prolonged it. He could have helped more! Why did he even put that stupid cursed ring on!? That idiot!  
   Swallowing hard, his eyes lowered as he felt the witch’s hand go to his own, which was on his knee. He hated being emotional. Usually it was easy to control himself—there wasn’t much of anything to be sad over, or to care about. But the death of Albus Dumbledore had had a great impact on everyone, including himself. And having to hold everything in, in front of Dumbledore, in front of the Dark Lord? He was beginning to reach his limit.   
   “Do you suppose he forgives me?” he asked, though taking his hand back. He really did not need the head of Gryffindor or the Headmistress of Hogwarts to comfort him like he was some lowly child. Of course, it was probably natural instinct for her, as it would be any Gryffindor, but Slytherin’s didn’t accept comfort so easily. Nor was he used to it.  
  
   “I’d go as far to say he thanks you,” said the woman, her tight lips going into a gentle smile. “If that night on the Astronomy Tower did not happen, then there is no telling what could have happened in such a change of events.”   
  
   “And Potter?” he asked, surprising himself with the question. He looked away, as if he didn’t care.   
  
   Minerva smirked a little, pushing her glasses up. “The boy has become quite attached to you since he saw your memories in the Pensieve, actually,” she said. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with Harry Potter on the thoughts of Dumbledore’s death. He’s seen more than most of us have…”  
   Standing up, she gave the man a soft look. “Get some rest, Severus,” she whispered, “In the morning, you should be able to return to your own common-room. Oh… and I do apologise for… well, trying to kill you,” she said, her cheeks flushing a little as she turned around and headed back for her own quarters.   
  
   Severus watched as the witch walked from the hospital wing. He turned back to the window, giving an aggravated sigh before lying back down rather aggressively despite his wounds.  
  
*****      
   In the Gryffindor common-room, Harry stared at the ceiling, still awake. It was hard to sleep when so much was on his mind. He wasn’t just thinking about what he and Hermione had talked about, but a lot of other things too, like all the people he’d lost.   
   He frowned, touching the scar on his forehead. Of course, it didn’t hurt anymore, and he more than welcomed that. It was the first time in his life where he felt free. Free from the Dusrleys, free from Voldemort. He had to smile at that. But life didn’t just stop being complicated there, he was a teenager after all, and everything seemed to be complicated when you were a teenager.   
   The hormones. All the weird changes. It was even worse for witches and wizards. At least now he could get away with doing magic outside of school if anything strange happened with his temper. Being overage was a wonderful thing.   
   Turning to look at Ron, who was asleep in his own bed, he leant up, looking around the room. Everyone else was asleep as well. It wasn’t often he fell asleep before anyone else, though. Seamus, Dean and Neville were all perfectly asleep in their own beds.  
   Turning to his side, he put his glasses back on, the room coming into clear view. He didn’t know what time it was, but he wasn’t very tired, and his mind wouldn’t shut up for the life of him. So instead, he whispered to Ron, trying to wake him up.   
   The red-haired boy took a moment to wake up, but eventually he did with a snore, Harry looking around to see if anyone else had heard. Apparently not—which was a good thing.   
  
   Rubbing his eyes, Ron frowned. “Harry? You alright, mate?” he asked. Of course, Harry didn’t just wake him up for no apparent reason. Usually it was to go and do something they shouldn’t be after hours. But considering the threat at Hogwarts was gone… well, he was quite curious.   
  
   Besides not being able to sleep, Harry just shrugged a little in his large T-shirt. “I know this might sound off, but… have you and Hermione… well, you know?” he asked. It seemed to take Ron a moment to understand what he was talking about, but when he realised, it was clear the other boy was red with embarrassment.  
  
   “What!?” asked Ron in almost shock. “N-no, we haven’t… done _’it’_ ,” he said, raising a brow. “Why?” Then it struck him, his face going pale. “Oh, blimey, you’re not talking about Ginny, are you? She’s my sister!”   
  
   Harry shook his head quickly, pushing himself up and putting a hand up. “No. I’m just… I was curious,” he asked with a shrug. “I don’t have any parents, remember? I just thought… well, you’re my best friend. I thought I could talk about this kind of stuff with you.”   
  
   Ron seemed to calm at hearing that, relaxing against the bed a little. “Well… what do you wanna know?” he asked. “I mean, surely you know the basics, right?”   
  
   “Yeah, I got that,” Harry laughed almost nervously. “But… I heard that in the wizarding world it’s completely normal for two guys or two girls to… date,” he said. Ron looked at him oddly, like it was strange to hear that that wouldn’t be normal. “In the Muggle world it’s a bit different,” he added. “Most people don’t like the thought of two men or women getting married.”   
  
   Ron’s brows arched a little, but he gave a shrug. “I think I heard my Dad talking about that once. Never really got into listening to it, but yeah… It’s pretty normal in the wizarding world,” he said, as if it meant little to nothing.   
   “It’s the pure-bloods you gotta look out for,” he mentioned. “Since there’s not as many of them left, some of them stay within their own families to reproduce.”  
  
   Narrowing his eyes a little, Harry poked out his tongue in disgust. “You’re a pure-blood, Ron.”   
  
   “So? Doesn’t mean I’m gunna go and date Ginny,” he said, revolted at the thought. He as well poked his tongue out. “Plus, my family doesn’t care about that kind of stuff. You should know that by now. Look at Hermione. And Fleur.” Of course, he didn’t mean that in a negative way.  
  
   Harry just nodded. “Okay, well… I guess I’ll stay away from those, then,” he laughed, as if trying to let some of the tension from the room slip away. How to tell Ron about Ginny, though? He had no idea. He didn’t want to hurt his feelings, and he knew how protective Ron could get.   
  
   The red-haired teenager just laughed back. “Was there anything else?”   
  
   The green eyes lowered a little, his hand touching the arm Snape had grabbed. He looked at it, feeling the energy in himself prickle for a moment. “What about age differences?” he asked, looking back up.   
  
   Relaxing a little, as it wasn’t about Ginny or Hermione, Ron laid back in his bed, putting his hands beneath his head. “Well, that depends,” he said, giving a shrug. “I mean… it would be awkward marrying someone like Professor McGonagall,” he laughed, “but someone like… in their 30’s would be fine for us, if that makes sense?” He waited for confirmation before continuing. “That new lady professor, I forgot her name, now she’s a catch, and they reckon she’s forty something,” he laughed with a grin.  
  
   “Because witches and wizards live longer?” Harry wondered. When Ron nodded, he stopped and thought about it for a moment. He knew Dumbledore was a hundred and fifteen when he died, and the man still seemed to have plenty of life within him. So he gathered age gaps would be completely different to the Muggle world. It was considered a miracle if someone lived past one-hundred. You even got a card from the Queen!   
   As Ron yawned, Harry thought he’d heard enough for the night, and instead of asking more questions, which he knew would only make more arise, he leant back down into the soft sheets of the bed. “Night, Ron.”   
  
   “G’night, Harry,” came a lethargic reply before the red-head fell asleep.   
  
*****  
   The following morning, the few remaining students and teachers sat in the Great Hall for breakfast. Severus was dressed in his usual clothes, though his thick, black robes still removed. He had a bowl of porridge in front of him, though he wasn’t paying much attention to it as he was speaking casually with McGonagall.  
   After he’d rested last night, he was feeling much better. Poppy had said that he was fine to return to his own chambers now that the toxins were removed from his system and the ointments were working at full capacity to heal the wounds. The bandages would also be able to come off soon.   
   They were half way through breakfast when the mail started coming in, owl after owl flying down to drop off any mail to the students and teachers. Naturally, he was gifted with no mail, to which he preferred. Mail usually meant a bad thing in his books, but he did watch as the majestic birds swooped and dived to deliver their parcels. He did notice, however, that Errol had arrived, crashlanding onto the Gryffindor table, the ungraceful clutz of a bird.   
   Snape kept back a smirk as he watched the bird fluff up and act as if nothing happened. Weasley scolded the bird, but his eyes went to Potter, the boy sitting with his cheek in his palm. He no doubt missed Hedwig. The snowy owl had sacrificed herself for Harry, and he had seen it in the midst of the battle he had been summoned to when Potter had moved from Privet Drive.   
  
   Across the hall, Ron seemed to see the same that Professor Snape had, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Cheer up, Harry. These holidays, why don’t we go looking for another for you?” he offered, Harry taking the _Daily Prophet_ from Errol and opening it. He, on the other hand, opened the letter from his mother, making sure Harry and Hermione were staying with them these holidays.   
  
   Harry read the front page of the newspaper, which was still on the defeat of Voldemort. He couldn’t wait until it was just history. He was tired of seeing his own face in the tabloids.   
   “Yeah… sure,” he mumbled, pushing the paper away and giving a fake smile. He didn’t wish to bring down his friends over the death of his owl, but he had loved Hedwig. Though a very smug owl she could be, she was still family to him.   
  
   Hermione, who was about to say something, stopped immediately when the doors to the Great Hall opened, three men who wore thick clothing walking in. Most of the hall turned in their direction as they approached the High Table.   
   “Who do you suppose they are?” she whispered, both Ron and Harry shrugging their shoulders, though eyes still following the three men. They were Aurors for sure with the way they were dressed and protected.   
  
   “I guess we’re about to find out,” Harry noted.  
  
   At the sight of the men, McGonagall stood from her seat. “Gentlemen, how may I help you?” she asked, looking at the papers that were slapped onto the table before her.  
  
   “Armin Stuka,” informed the man in the middle, having put the papers down. He had chest-length, wavy brown hair, dark eyes and very sharp brows. “Auror for the Ministry of Magic. We have a warrant for Severus Snape’s arrest for the murder of Albus Dumbledore.”   
  
   Harry’s eyes widened as he heard the words, a few gasps coming from the hall. He watched Snape as he looked at Armin. Why were they coming now!? Dumbledore’s death was months ago. The Ministry had Snape’s back once Kingsley became Minister and found out the truth.  
  
   “Now that you’ve recovered, Mister Snape, I must insist that you serve your time in Azkaban,” said the head man, his eyes dark as they narrowed towards the professor.   
  
   McGonagall picked up the papers and read them. This was clearly some kind of mistake. This had all been sorted out with Kingsley after the battle at Hogwarts. In turn for Snape’s protection of the boy who defeated Voldemort, he’d gained his freedom, not to mention Dumbledore’s death had been explained. It was a mercy killing. A planned suicide.   
   “Excuse me, but I will not have you taking a professor without reason. Have you not already spoken to the Minister on this matter? If you had, you would know that Severus Snape is not to be taken to Azkaban for any reason. He is a hero!”  
  
   “You’ll protect a Death Eater?” Stuka scoffed. “We are Aurors, and we hunt Death Eaters. This man was a loyal subject of You-Know-Who, and thus he must be taken in.”   
  
   “I will have no such thing!” the Headmistress snapped, putting a hand on Severus’ sore shoulder and pushing him back down in his seat. He hissed in pain, but she made it clear that he was not going anywhere.   
   “Now, before I inform the Minister himself of such ridiculous accusations, you best remove yourselves from the grounds before I toss you out myself.”   
  
   Armin sneered, his hand twitching, and within a flash, both Snape and McGonagall had their wands pointing at him, the three Auror’s returning the favour.   
   A smirk crossed his lips. “You dare stay where you slaughtered the great Albus Dumbledore?” he jeered, dark eyes on the other almost black ones.   
  
   The Hall at Hogwarts had gone still and silent, and Harry could hear his heart pounding into his head. He wanted to grab his own wand and point it at this daft man. How dare he accuse Snape of any of those things!? He had done nothing but protect him his whole stay here. If anything, Snape had been closer to Dumbledore than anyone else in this room!   
   He felt his fingers twitching, reaching for his own wand that was in his pocket and slipping it out. He didn’t know why, but he had an overwhelming urge to protect the professor. Maybe because he felt like he owed him so much for all he’d done? He didn’t know.  
  
   Snape’s brows deepened as he scowled, his wand directed to the man’s heart. “Clearly, you have little knowledge of what actually occurred that night,” he said darkly. He could easily kill this man. An Auror? More like a bounty hunter that was in it just for the kill. He should have known this would happen.   
  
   As Armin hissed, about to throw a curse, Harry stood up from his seat. “No!” he yelled, catching everyone else’s attention. He pointed his wand to the head of the group, eyes fierce. “If you knew anything about Albus Dumbledore, then you would know that Professor Snape did what was asked of him,” he said. He would not have another person die in front of him.   
  
   Watching as those green eyes burned, Severus was surprised anyone would interfere, especially Potter. He would have figured him paying for his crimes in Azkaban would have pleased the boy greatly considering how much he’d cared for Dumbledore.    
   He didn’t lower his wand, though, and although his eyes were on Harry in utter astonishment, he was watching very closely for any sudden movement from the other men in the room.   
  
   At the sight of Harry Potter, Armin almost dropped to his knees. “Mister Potter,” he said in shock. “This man is responsible for the murder-,”  
  
   “No! This man is responsible for saving my life!” Harry declared. “If Professor Snape did not protect me, then Voldemort would still be slaughtering innocent others. Now lower your wand.” He ignored the flinches as he’d spoken Voldermort’s name. People really needed to get over that.   
  
   Though hesitant, Armin did what he was told by the famous Harry Potter. He shook his long, wavy hair from his face. “As you wish, Mister Potter.”   
  
   Harry had a feeling that his victory had made him more of an idol than he’d realised. These men were not Aurors. They were bounty hunters with papers and a reward for Snape’s head. Clearly loyal followers to Dumbledore, but with no knowledge on the real happenings. And in return, they would be loyal to him, too.   
   “I want you to leave,” he said, lowering his wand. “Don’t ever come back here, and don’t ever try to hunt this man again, do you understand me?” Although his voice was shaken, it was very clear that it was a promise that if he ever came back here it would mean trouble.   
  
   Stuka’s jaw went tight, and he looked to his fellow men, giving them a nod of the head. “We are forever in your debt, Mister Potter,” he said, bowing his head lightly. He shot a heated glare at Snape before he stormed from the Hall, his men following him out.   
  
   As the doors closed with a bang, Harry realised that all eyes were on his, including Professor Snape’s. He felt his skin burn as he hadn’t realised what had come over him. And then he was grabbed by the collar, looking at the very man he had just saved from Azkaban or death.  
  
   “What the _hell_ is wrong with you, Potter!?” spat Snape, throwing the boy from him. “I don’t _need_ your protection.” He then stormed from the hall himself, the doors slamming closed behind him.  
  
   Harry just stood there, gathering himself and feeling his blood pulse. He swallowed hard and looked around, Ron and Hermione staring at him.


	5. Loyalty

Chapter Five: Loyalty.   
  
   Unable to face the eyes that were upon him, Harry had marched from the room as hurriedly as possible, his wand still in his hand. He didn’t know what had come over him, but seeing someone trying to take Snape away and put him in _Azkaban_ , of all places, made his blood boil!   
   His hand tightened on his wand as he walked down the corridors of Hogwarts and headed outside. He couldn’t even be with Ron and Hermione right now. He just didn’t know what to tell them! After all Snape had done for them, though? It just seemed wrong! Wrong to put him in prison and lock him away! He knew he’d killed Dumbledore and he wasn’t any more happy about it than anyone else, but Dumbledore had asked that of him! And he knew Snape was the only man that could have done it quickly and painlessly. Mercifully.   
   Sitting down on one of the benches, he tried to calm his breathing. He was so angry and surprised in himself that he just didn’t know what to do. He could feel the energy and anger inside him building up, and the last thing he wanted was to do something terrible to someone with accidental magic.   
   It only made him more angry that Snape had pretty much thrown his actions back in his face. It wasn’t like he had done anything bad! He’d saved Snape from having to go to Azkaban, or even worse, getting killed by those Aurors! He was sure the Headmistress was contacting Kingsley now and informing him of what had happened.  
   He did wonder where Snape had gone, though. Bloody hell, he was only trying to help and give the man some recognition for the good that he had done. Was it so bad that he stuck up for him? Did Snape hate him _that_ much that he couldn’t even stand him trying to help?  
   Well, that made him _know_ that the shock between them the other day was nothing. But then why was he so worried about it all?   
   It was so frustrating! And he couldn’t help but feel his chest pang with some unknown feeling at the thought of the professor. Those angry eyes on him as he’d grabbed his collar. He could feel the heat radiating off the man. His own magic. It somewhat felt… enticing.   
   It was a few minutes until Harry heard footsteps coming his way. Something stopped him from looking but he knew it was Ginny once he saw her sit down beside him, her jeans in view of his eyesight.   
  
   “I got this for you,” said the girl, holding out a phial of liquid. “Calming Draught. I thought you might want it.”   
  
   Looking at the phial, Harry gently nodded and took the potion without even asking where she’d got it from. Instantly, he felt his body relax as the potion did its job, calming him down. “Thanks.”   
  
   Ginny gave a soft smile, taking back the now empty phial. She knew the last few weeks had been incredibly stressful on Harry. And although the war was ended, Harry still took it upon himself to care for many other people.   
   “That was brave of you,” she said, Harry’s eyes looking down at her. The last few days had been strained for them, though, and she knew what was coming. She admired Harry more than anyone would, but she knew when something was wrong.   
  
   Having taken the potion, most of Harry’s anxiety had gone away, and it made him look at Ginny without any nerves about wanting to break up with her.   
   “Ginny… I don’t think we should date anymore.” It didn’t come out meanly, but it didn’t exactly come out as softly as he’d wanted it to. He was really bad at this.   
  
   The girl’s eyes lowered, but the look in her face almost said she had prepared for this. Her chest fell and she didn’t know what else to say. She’d had a crush on Harry since she first met him and she never really thought that they would get this far. She was happy that at least they’d reached this length.  
  
   “But… that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be your friend,” urged Harry. “I just… I think we moved too fast. And… with everything that’s happened, I just… My head isn’t in the right place,” he tried to explain.   
   He frowned, giving a sigh. The Calming Draught almost felt like a bad idea now. He felt like he should be feeling worse than he was, but the potion was preventing him from feeling any kind of anxiety or sadness, he just had to fake it, which felt horribly wrong.   
  
   “I… I understand,” Ginny said, nodding grimly. It was easy to tell she was upset, but she kept it hidden the best she could. She still wanted to be friends with Harry and she certainly didn’t want Ron to get angry about the whole thing. She didn’t need her older brother interfering with her relationships—again.   
   She knew it was nothing she had done, though. She thought they had been close at one point, but even she had felt the tension of the last few weeks. Even kissing with Harry had seemed like it was put on or something. Now she knew why.  
  
   Looking at Ginny, Harry wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know if that would just make things worse. He would have hugged her but it would have just made things awkward.   
   “Can we still be friends?” he asked, his voice hopeful.   
  
   Although her chest felt like an open wound, Ginny held herself together the best she could. If there was one thing about her, she was a fighter.   
   “Yeah…” she nodded, smiling. She wiped a hand against her dampening eyes, but when Harry went to touch her, she moved back. “I’m fine, Harry, it’s alright. I’m just… I’m gunna go back inside…”  
  
   As Ginny stood, Harry watched her walk away, seeing her disappear back down the corridor. He wished he could dread when Ron heard about this, but the potion inside his system just wouldn’t let him.  
  
*****  
   Slamming the door to the dungeons, Severus rubbed a hand over his left shoulder as pain begun to twinge through it. He couldn’t wait until those stupid bite bruises were finally gone.   
   He walked moodily over to his desk and sat down, ignoring the chirp from Fawkes the phoenix that sat perched in his office.  
   After Dumbledore’s death, Fawkes had lamented his song over the school and he had disappeared. However, once he’d returned to his personal quarters last night, the phoenix had made it inside somehow and made it a habit to fly onto Severus’ desk and annoy him, getting into his parchment and tearing at it.  
   Minerva had said Fawkes had returned the day after the battle had been won. However, he hadn’t made a home out of her office. Instead, apparently he’d been free roaming.  
   He figured the bird missed Albus, so he took the perch that had been in the Headmistress’ office and brought it down here last night. Minerva said it was fine to do so, and he figured she didn’t mind the bird being down here with him. After all, Fawkes was the only thing left to remind him of Dumbledore (besides the talking photos in the Headmasters/mistress’s office). He wondered if the bird secretly hated him, which was why he had pestered him to stay—a constant reminder of his crime.   
   He had been told that when he was attacked, Fawkes had not cried. It made him pissed off but confused at the same time. The bird’s tears were healing powers and he knew very well that they had aided Potter when he was bit by Slytherin’s Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. Instead, the bloody bird disappeared for a few days as if on purpose. However, he was back now, perched and preening his vibrant fiery feathers in his new ‘home’.  
   Taking out a quill, he dipped it furiously into the pot of ink, writing down notes for what he’d have to prepare for when school started.  
   Stupid Potter boy getting in his way. He scoffed mentally, wanting to throttle him. He didn’t need that stupid preppy boy standing up for him. Just like his pathetic, arrogant father, he was. Always being the centre of attention. Always trying to be the hero! Well, he didn’t need a hero, and he didn’t need Potter warding off bounty hunters. He was a grown wizard for Merlin’s sake! He could handle himself. He’d been cunning enough to trick the Dark Lord all this time, he was sure it would be easy to trick these simple minded Aurors.   
   About to write, he realised his hand was shaking with frustration. There wasn’t much point in trying to do something on a professional level if he couldn’t contain his anger.   
   That stupid boy! He didn’t even understand why Potter had stood up in the first place! It was like he was trying to best him in saving his life or something. It wasn’t a damn competition! He’d owed Dumbledore his life! And after James had saved him from being attacked from Remus in his werewolf form, Dumbledore had made it clear that he owed James as well—much to his loathing.   
   He remembered the anger on the boy’s face as he had stood up, wand pointed to that stupid barbarian of an Auror, Armin. Those green eyes were furious and… almost obsessive. Severus felt his hand lower the quill, ink falling from the nib onto the parchment in front of him.   
   Had Potter seriously begun to care for him? In any kind of way? Surely not. Surely it was just a way to gain more attention from his seemingly growing fan-club.   
   But the rage in those eyes was something he would not forget so easily—could not forget. They had passion in them. Passion he had not really noticed the boy had. And the sheer embarrassment and horror when he had grabbed him… Merlin. The boy had just been trying to repay the favour, but those large green eyes behind those glasses seemed to say so much more.  
   Swallowing, he stiffened as he realised there was something hard beneath his trousers, propped up against his thigh. He looked down, dropping the quill completely in surprise of himself. Merlin’s beard!   
   Fortunately for him, there was a knock on the door that distracted him, and Minerva McGonagall stepped inside the office. Just the right thing to make his body go back to normal.   
   He picked up the quill once more and steadied himself, watching as she approached Fawkes and gave him a small scratch behind the ear as a welcome back—to which the phoenix seemed to purr at.    
  
   “You needn’t worry about those Auror’s, Severus. I have informed the Minister himself and he will be looking into this. Further actions will be taken on them, I am sure,” the Headmistress informed, taking her hand from Fawkes and turning to the Potions professor.   
   Putting her hands together, she approached the man’s desk. She’s gotten used to Severus’ darker nature and interest in the Dark Arts. She no longer squirmed at the thought of dead animal parts being in jars on the walls in rows. After all, they were ingredients for potions, and ones that came in handy.  
   “I must insist that you do not return to Spinner’s End these holidays, Severus.” This time, worry was clear in her voice. “It’s not protected. I am more than willing to let you stay here at Hogwarts. Hagrid will be here, as you know, and I am sure some of the students will not be able to make it home, as always.”   
  
   Severus wasn’t an idiot, and he understood where Minerva was coming from. “Indeed, I believe you are quite correct,” he said, moving the things aside on his desk and standing up. “I am quite capable of taking care of myself, I must make apparent though.”   
  
   The Headmistress nodded. “I am well aware, Severus,” she stated knowingly. “I am not saying you are not capable on your own, but you are a professor here at Hogwarts and I do fear for your safety. As witch to wizard… I must insist. Please stay here. If only for a while until things calm down,” she said, her voice genuine now.  
  
   “It appears I don’t have a choice, then,” Severus muttered, though flinching as the phoenix flapped its large wings and perched itself on his unwounded shoulder.   
   His eyes fell flat as he heard Minerva give a girlish giggle. “Oh, please.”   
  
   Fawkes gave a happy screech. “It appears he is quite fond of you, Severus. A shame he would not cry for you when needed.”   
  
   Snape had a feeling the bird had done that on purpose, though. He leant his face away from the phoenix as it nibbled on a lock of his hair.   
   “This bird purposely hates me,” he said, shrugging his shoulder violently so the phoenix had no choice but to fly off. He landed gracefully on Minerva’s arm as she stretched it out, putting him back on the perch.   
  
   The witch laughed again. “Now, now, Severus. Not everyone takes a disliking to you,” she mused, giving Fawkes a soft scratch on the neck. “In fact, I think he rather likes it here with you. Phoenixes are incredible creatures, Severus. Loyal, too. He would not have come to you if he did not see a purpose in it.”  
  
   The professor grumbled. “After killing his owner, I’d imagine it’s quite the punishment,” he alleged flatly.   
  
   Minerva just huffed, heading for the door. “It’s settled, then. You will stay here during these holidays. I am sure you will have your classes planned before school starts,” though she knew he would. Although a strict teacher, he was a good one.   
   “And if you need anything, do not hesitate to contact me. Fawkes will know where to find me.”   
  
   “Is there anything else, Headmistress?” Snape asked, noticing the witch had stopped on her tracks before the door as he followed her.  
  
   Turning, Minerva’s green eyes looked to the dark brown ones of the former Death Eater. “Mister Potter,” she started, seeing him stiffen a little, though his face as unreadable as ever, “Don’t hold his actions against him, Severus. The last thing he needs is a friend to be taken away after everyone he’s already lost. He’s seen more death than any of us.”  
  
   The door closed as Severus was about to protest to the word ‘friend’. He hardly saw anything like that between them. More like a mutual hatred for one another. He just stared at the door, though, Fawkes tugging on his shirt sleeve to get his attention.  
   Looking down, he almost scowled at the bird, the big black eyes looking at him. He lifted his hand and scratched the phoenix on the head, getting his own purr from the bird before it nibbled gently on his fingers.  
  
*****  
   The rest of the night had been awkward and Ron had found out about the break up. At dinner, he didn’t talk to Harry for a while, but when Ginny had said it was mutual he seemed to calm down a little. Ginny left early though, and so did Ron—most likely to comfort his sister and get the rest of the story from her.  
   Harry and Hermione sat outside in the grass beneath one of the willow trees, a small light charm between them so it wasn’t so dark. The moon was lighting up the grounds enough, but it still helped so they could see each other better.   
   “I don’t know what’s going on, Hermione,” Harry said softly, giving a sigh. By now, the potion he’d taken earlier had worn off completely and he was back to his normal self—now worrying about all of the strange teenage emotions that were inside of him.   
   “Sometimes I just don’t feel I’m cut out for this,” he laughed, though nothing funny about it. Hormones and growing up just seemed like so much. Sometimes he just wished he was the boy in the cupboard under the stairs again. “I just hope things don’t get awkward over the holidays.”  
  
   Hermione, with her back against the trunk of the tree gave a gentle sigh. “Maybe you just need a break,” she suggested. “With everything that’s gone on, I don’t think anyone can blame you, Harry. I mean…” She stopped, not wanting to upset him and remind him of the deaths that had happened in the last few months.   
  
   “What about you?” he asked. “You… had to completely remove yourself from your parents’ lives. I mean… don’t you miss them?” he asked, though already knowing the answer.   
  
   Hermione frowned, looking down. “Of course I miss them,” she whispered. “I think about them every day, but I did what I had to do to protect them. I’ll get them back once everything settles. I still can’t risk it as I’m… a Muggle-born, and there are still a few Death Eaters out there.”   
   She kept a photo of her parents with her at all times. Even though she was removed from the photo, she still knew it had been a family photo and she kept that close to her heart.     
   Of course, there was a way to lift the enchantment and she would do that as soon as all of the Death Eaters were found. For now, she was still keeping it low, and the spell would keep her parents safe.   
   It had been the hardest thing she ever had to do, but at least she still had a life time with them. Harry didn’t even get to know his parents before they were stripped from him. She could get hers back. He couldn’t.   
   Giving a sigh, she looked at the young man across from her. “A lot has happened, Harry… I think a break is something that we all need.” Although, to be fair, she and Ron had become much closer due to these events, but Harry was different. He’d been an abused boy and known nothing but death. She didn’t expect him to be like her and Ron. He had enough difficulties learning who he was and what he had to do. Such responsibilities for a child.   
   She thought about this morning, remembering how hard Harry had stood up for Professor Snape. She’d also noticed that ever since the professor had been saved, Harry had seemed more distracted than ever before. Well, not ever before, but sort of like he had been when he realised he had feelings for Cho Chang.   
   She’d noticed the embarrassing flush that had gone across his face when Snape had grabbed his collar and been mere inches away from him when threatening him, too. Harry was clearly confused about the whole thing, but this was Professor Snape! How could Harry think anything nice would come from him standing up for him? Snape wasn’t known for thanking people.   
   “Harry…” she started, though hearing a call go through the grounds. The both of them looked up, the fiery phoenix landing just on the branch above them. Her eyes widened, having not seen Fawkes since Dumbledore’s death. She thought he’d gone for good.  
  
   “Fawkes…?” asked Harry, his eyes widening. He felt like taking his glasses off and cleaning them, just to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. It wouldn’t be the first time. Sure enough, though, the bird was still above them, his wings stretched out before he fluffed his feathers up and tucked them.   
   “I… I thought you left,” he said, the bird gliding down and landing on his stretched out arm. He smiled for the first time in a long time, letting his fingers touch the silky feathers of the phoenix. He thought Fawkes had left because of Dumbledore. Why would he come back?   
  
   Hermione, surprised to see the phoenix, looked away as she saw movement from across the grounds. Fawkes had obviously led someone to them, although she figured it was Harry considering the phoenix seemed loyal to him.   
   As the black shadow in the night approached them, she realised it was Professor Snape. She hadn’t even realised the time! It was almost after hours at Hogwarts and he was no doubt coming to take off points and scoot them off to their rooms.  
  
   “Potter,” said the Potions master, approaching the two Gryffindor’s. “Miss Granger,” he also acknowledged. “It is almost curfew, so you best get back to your common-room.”   
  
   Harry, who was still patting Fawkes, just looked astonished. He watched as Snape’s fingers intertwined with one another in front of him. Professor Snape always did look rather military. He gathered it was from being a soldier in Voldemort’s army.   
   Catching the eyes of the Potions master, he was thankful it was dark as he felt his cheeks blush immensely.   
   “Fawkes led you to us…?” he asked curiously. “D-does this mean… he’s loyal to you now?” That surprised him. How Fawkes could ever be loyal to Professor Snape was bewildering. Then again, he probably knew Snape from being so close to Dumbledore.  
  
   “Inside, Potter. You can ask questions later,” snapped the professor.  
  
   Hermione grabbed her bag and put her wand back inside, as well as the books she’d had out. Harry, who still had Fawkes, turned quietly and the three of them began heading back to the castle. She stayed quiet, not wanting to start any trouble between either of them.   
  
   “Are you going to take points from us?” Harry asked, Fawkes still on his shoulder as they headed towards the castle. He really did miss Hedwig. He missed her a lot.  
  
   Snape huffed. “As much as I’d enjoy stripping you of your points, school is not in session at the current time,” he noted, flashing a quick glance at the young man. Potter seemed surprised at that.  
   When they reached the entrance to the school, Snape stopped. “The bird,” he ordered, Fawkes still on the Gryffindor’s shoulder.   
  
   Looking up, Harry nodded. “See you later, Fawkes,” he said sadly, a soft call coming from the phoenix. He let him hop up into his hand, and he gently leant it out, Professor Snape’s own arm extending to go against his.  
   Harry found himself blushing once more at the touch of the professor’s arm, Fawkes waddling up the slender arm and situating himself on Snape’s shoulder. Once more, he nibbled on the man’s hair, pulling a lock away from his face. Professor Snape seemed to scowl at that, and he couldn’t help but smirk.   
  
   “Do you find something amusing, Mister Potter?” asked the Slytherin, his dark eyes narrowing in detest to the boy as he smirked. He returned his arm to himself, his body stiff like always, eyes almost penetrating the boy’s own.   
  
   “I just… didn’t think he’d take such a liking to you, Professor,” Harry confessed, hiding another amused grin as Fawkes squawked into Snape’s ear.   
  
   “It’s hardly a liking,” Snape assured, glaring at the phoenix. “Now, before you ask me any more imprudent questions, the both of you, get to your common-room. Now.”  
  
   Harry turned immediately, nodding and walking beside Hermione, who had been watching the two of them. “What?” he asked, having to look away as she looked at him strangely.   
  
   Hermione didn’t exactly know what to say, so she just shrugged, thinking that it had been the return of Fawkes that made Harry to happy and shy.   
   “I didn’t think Fawkes would return,” she said, truth to her words, even though that wasn’t why she’d been looking at him in a confused manner.     
  
   “Yeah, but that’s great,” Harry said enthusiastically, “But… it’s strange that Snape has him. I would have thought Fawkes would have hated him…”   
  
   Stopping, Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm. “Don’t you see, Harry? Phoenixes are very loyal creatures. Obviously once Dumbledore died, Fawkes saw his loyalty to Snape. I mean, he’s loyal to you as well, which is curious, but… obviously he’s loyal to Snape as well. I’m sure he was in Dumbledore’s office a lot.”  
  
   Harry looked at her with a confused facial. “How can he be loyal to the both of us?” he asked, brows furrowing. “I mean, yeah, I suppose we’re on the same team and all, but… we’re completely different.”  
  
   “Are you?” the girl asked, raising a brow. Harry’s green eyes just looked at her. “Think about It, Harry… Both you and Snape were loyal to Dumbledore. Both of you would have given your lives for him. Snape almost died, and I can’t even begin to tell you how many times he risked his life for you…”  
  
   What was she trying to say? That Snape actually did somewhat care for him? He felt his cheeks burn at the thought. Snape was a professor! He was a student! Not to mention he was twenty years older than him! Then he remembered what Ron had said about the different age groups and that twenty years wasn’t even considered bad.   
   “This is still about Fawkes, isn’t it…?” he asked, brows furrowing.   
  
   Hermione perked up a little bit. “What else would it be about?” she asked, giving a shrug.  
  
   Harry looked at her in surprise for a moment. “Nothing,” he noted, giving her a small smile. “Come on, let’s go before we get into trouble.”   
  
   As Harry moved past her, Hermione watched the young man carefully, following after him. She wouldn’t make any kind of assumptions, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Harry wasn’t talking about someone else when he was asking about sparks and magic.   
   She’d seen the way Harry’s cheeks had flushed when he and Professor Snape’s bodies had met. Just the way he’d been with Cho when their eyes met. He’d made a complete fool out of himself, too.  
   She shook her head, hoping it was just her imagination. But then again, when had she ever really been wrong?


	6. Advanced Potion-Making

Chapter Six: Advanced Potion-Making.       
   
   As the weeks passed, things between Ginny and Harry had gotten better. Harry knew that Ginny still had feelings for him, but it was hard to feel guilty about it. Of course he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he just didn’t like her in that way anymore.  
   Ron had come off it, which was good, and they were now back to being normal friends. He didn’t expect Ron to take the news too easily but Hermione had had his back from the start, which was nice. Ron eventually realised he was being a git over the whole thing.  
   Harry, personally, was tired of everyone expecting him to be nice and perfect to everyone. He thought that once Voldemort had been defeated that his social status would go back to normal. He was wrong. People still crowded him, wanted things from him, and expected him to be forever a hero.   
   Of course, since so many students weren’t at Hogwarts anymore, it had been much better. Less giggling around him, less whispers. It had been good—great, actually—but he knew once school picked back up that he wouldn’t have this much privacy. It really bothered him and it also got him down rather badly. He just wanted to be alone sometimes!  
   He was also uncertain about staying at the Borrow these holidays—mainly because he didn’t want to upset Ginny. He was still more than welcome but he didn’t want to hurt her even more. Now that the house was smaller than it had been, he just didn’t want Ginny to feel awkward around him. But it wasn’t like he had any other friends to stay with, either. Ron and Hermione were like his family now.   
   Packing his things into his trunk, he rolled it down the stairs of the common-room. Like usual, everything would be put on the train by the elves, but he still rolled it down the stairs for them, meeting up with the rest of the left over Gryffindors.   
   Seeing Ginny, his eyes lowered a little, not knowing what to say around her. He didn’t want to act like nothing had happened because he knew she still liked him. It felt like the worst thing to do, be normal and lead her on. But he didn’t want to bring it up either. Ignoring her felt wrong as well, though. He mentally sighed. He didn’t want to have to deal with this all holidays. Maybe staying at Hogwarts would be better for them all…  
   “Ron,” he said, the red-headed boy looking at him. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” When Ron nodded, they walked out of the common-room and headed down the stairs a little bit.   
   “Are you sure this is alright? I feel bad about Ginny. I don’t want to upset her any more than she already is,” he insisted, pushing his glasses up a little.  
  
   Although knowing that Ginny was upset, and she was his sister, Harry was also Ron’s best friend, and he knew with everything that had gone on, it wasn’t exactly Harry’s fault that he couldn’t be in a relationship right now.   
   “Mate, it might be awkward but you’re still welcome. Besides, where else would you go?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders. “I wouldn’t want you going back to your aunt and uncle’s.”   
  
   The thought wasn’t nice but at the same time at least he didn’t feel incredibly awkward there. He was just abused and picked on. Plus, now that he was of age, he could always threaten them that he could use magic on them.  
   He’d heard that the Durlseys had moved back into Privet Drive now that the threat was gone. Figures they would. At least they had been nice enough to send him a notice. That, for them, was more than nice.   
  
   “Don’t worry about it, mate,” Ron said, nudging him on the shoulder. “Now c’mon, we should have been done ages back. Don’t want the train to leave without us, do you?”   
  
   “Of course not,” Harry laughed, remembering the enchanted car from Ron’s father they had stolen. He smiled a little but stopped when he heard a familiar call coming down the corridor. Fawkes? But what was he doing here?   
   Putting his arm out, the phoenix landed gracefully onto it. “Hey, Fawkes,” he said, letting the bird nibble his fingers much like Hedwig had done. “I should probably take him back. I doubt Snape’ll be happy knowing he’s out and about.”  
  
   Ron shrugged. “He’d probably rather come home with us than go back there,” he laughed, though stopping when Harry gave him a nasty look. “Alright, go take him back. We’ll meet you at the docks.”   
  
   Nodding, Harry walked away from his friend and headed to the dungeons where he figured Snape would be. It was curious what the bird was doing out. Usually Dumbledore had him kept in his office in his own company. Maybe Fawkes really had flown away? Either way, he knew Snape wouldn’t be happy about him having his phoenix.  
   Making his way down the stairs, he knocked on the open door before walking in. Professor Snape was at his desk, a quill in his hand. “Sir… I just came to return Fawkes. I thought he may have flown away without you knowing,” he explained, his voice soft.   
  
   Snape didn’t lift his eyes from his parchment, still continuing to scribble. “I allowed him out,” he said bluntly.   
  
   Harry’s eyes opened a little. Did Snape hate Fawkes so much that he didn’t care for him at all? He looked over at the perch where the bird slept. However, he was surprised to see there was a plenty enough amount of frankincense and odoriferous gums, which were the bird’s natural diet. Snape was actually looking after him?   
   “Oh…” he said, surprised. He didn’t move, not to put Fawkes down as he was uncertain if Professor Snape actually wanted him there or not when he was working. “Do… you want me to put him back, or let him back out?”   
  
   Looking up from his papers, Snape placed his hands together on the desk. “Mister Potter, it’s come to my attention that you no longer have an owl. I merely thought that, if you sought, you could take that wretched pigeon over the holidays so I could get some work done.” He picked his quill back up and continued his notes.  
  
   Once more, Harry’s green eyes widened at the thought, amazed that Snape would ever allow something like that. He didn’t bother asking why, he didn’t want to ruin this chance.   
   He grinned, the bird nuzzling against his cheek. “If… if you’re allowing me to? Then… yes, Professor, I’d love to,” he smiled. Wait, Snape was working over the holidays?  
   Frowning a little, he moved forward, Fawkes climbing down his arm and walking across the desk. “Wait… you’re staying here over the holidays?” he asked. “Don’t you have anywhere else to stay?”   
  
   Snape scowled as Fawkes pecked at the quill in his hand, snapping it away from him. “Due to recent events, the Headmistress has asked me to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays. I agreed,” he said, lifting a brow as he looked to the boy. Potter seemed somewhat… hurt by this? He had no idea why he’d even care an inch for what the hell he was doing over the holidays. He was a professor, after all.   
  
   Right, the bounty hunters. Harry should have known. Still, he felt awful that Professor Snape had to stay here alone. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep Fawkes? For company, I mean,” he said, feeling his cheeks heat up as Snape’s dark eyes rose to his.  
  
   Looking at the young man that stood before him, Severus saw the cheeks turn a very satisfying shade of red. Why Harry was blushing or embarrassed, he had no idea, but the look was quite nice on him. Not all that cocky arrogance. Instead, he looked rather vulnerable.   
   “The bird will distract me more than necessary,” he made clear, Fawkes nibbling on his fingers. He groused, removing his hand from the desk.   
  
   Harry grinned. “I can see that,” he said, though his smile disappearing when Snape shot him a look of detest. He swallowed heavily, taking a step back. “Will I need anything with him? His perch and food?”   
  
   This time, Snape stood up, picking the bird up on his wrist and putting him onto his stronger shoulder. Walking over to one of the cabinets, he pulled out a few phials and put them into a small velvety bag before thrusting it to Potter’s chest. “That should last him the holidays.”   
   He lifted the bird from his right shoulder and put his arm out for the boy to take him. “I will have his perch delivered with your trunk for the train,” he informed, turning back around and taking a seat at his desk once more as Harry took the phoenix.   
  
   Watching Fawkes, he seemed to get restless at the idea he was going somewhere else. Harry smiled gently, patting his head. “It’s alright, Fawkes, you’ll have fun at the Burrow, and then you’ll be back here with Professor Snape again.”   
  
   Watching the scene before him, Snape didn’t know whether to gag or downright puke. He did furrow his brow when he realised Potter seemed to lose his enthusiasm. “Is there something wrong, Potter?” he asked shortly, as if he truly didn’t care.  
  
   Harry’s green eyes went from Fawkes for a moment, giving a gentle shrug. “I just miss Hedwig… that’s all,” he said, a small and sad smile creasing one side of his lips. “It’s nothing, Professor. I’ll bring back Fawkes after the holidays, I promise.”   
  
   As the boy turned around, shoving the bag into his oversized pocket, Severus frowned a little as he left the room. He never realised how much Potter could actually care for something, let alone something like an owl. Personally, he thought the boy would think it just a tool. Clearly Hedwig was more than that then he thought.   
   He had seen the way Harry had been looking at Fawkes a few weeks back, and it was clear the boy enjoyed the company of the bird. He’d been out and about the grounds a few more times as well before he’d come back for the afternoon and sleep here, flying near Potter and getting his attention.   
   Severus didn’t mind the bird roaming the grounds as long as nothing happened to him. Plus… there was something… calming about seeing the two of them together.  
   Looking at the now empty perch, he realised it was as silent as ever here. Usually he wouldn’t mind the silence. Silence was good. It got work done. Progress. However, he was becoming quite accustomed to the bird being in his office.   
   This set of holidays was going to be quite tedious, he knew that much.   
  
*****  
   “Wow,” Ron whispered in amazement to the fiery phoenix perched on Harry’s shoulder. “And he’s gunna stay with us? That’s wicked,” he mused, a massive grin on his face. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen Fawkes, but it was the first time he’d seem him up this close, getting to actually pat him.   
   “I can’t believe he let you keep him over the holidays. Mum and Dad are gunna love him. I bet he’ll much prefer it at the Burrow than in Snape’s dingy office,” he snorted.  
  
   “Actually, I think Fawkes is a fair bit fond of Snape,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. Ron gave him a surprised look but he just disregarded it. “Well, he came back for him, didn’t he? I mean… I should be pretty grateful he even let me look after Fawkes over the holidays.”  
  
   That got Ron’s attention. “Yeah… why did he let you take him? Was he annoying him that much?” he laughed, Fawkes nipping him quite hard, as if offended by the statement. He took his hand back immediately, cursing to himself.  
  
   Hermione laughed a little at the defensive nature of the phoenix. She was watching Harry closely, though. He seemed very happy about the whole thing. Actually, she hadn’t seen him this happy since a long time. With everything that had gone on and all the fighting and losing loved ones, Harry didn’t have much time to smile. But it was wonderful seeing him so cheerful again, like when they’d first become friends.   
   As Hogwarts Express arrived at the station, they all stepped on and sat in one compartment of the train. It would be a few hours until they reached London and then Ron’s mother and father would meet them there. She supposed Apparition would have been much easier, but Harry insisted on taking the long way back, saying that he wanted to remember the feel of the train when he’d just come to Hogwarts since it was safe again.   
   Ron didn’t question, and considering the train was coming for younger students who couldn’t perform such magic yet, they all decided they’d take it with him. Neither one of them really wanted Harry to be alone in a time like this.  
   Of course, when they stepped onto the train, Fawkes was put into a different section. Harry had seen the perch was inside, as promised by Professor Snape, and Fawkes had no problem with sharing the compartment with the owls.  
   Hermione, of course, noticed Harry’s eyes searching the cages, as if searching for Hedwig. She knew the snowy owl wouldn’t be there and she knew Harry knew as well. It was sad, though, to see him being reminded of one of his most dearly loved ones.   
   To many, Hedwig was just an owl, but she cared for Harry very deeply, and he cared for her in return. They had become quite close companions over the years. Harry was very distraught when she had been struck with the killing curse.   
     
   Harry had stayed quiet most of the trip, which did concern Hermione. Ron didn’t seem to notice, as he was shoving his face with lollies that came down from the lady with her cart. She could see it in his eyes, though, as he looked out the window. Some kind of emptiness. She couldn’t blame him. He’d be missing so many right now, and she was sure he wasn’t looking forward to all the new faces poking at him when they returned to Hogwarts in September.  
  
*****  
   Things seemed to distract Harry once they’d arrived at the Burrow. Molly and Arthur were more than happy to welcome everyone into their home—including Fawkes, who had taken favour to Arthur immediately.  
   They were all exhausted and tired from the long journey home, so when night came, Ron and Hermione left for their bedroom, while Harry was given his own room. Both Hermione and Ron said a goodnight to him before the other boy left into his own room for the night.   
   Opening the spare room, Harry looked inside and dropped his things onto the floor, smiling. He’d missed this place. It really felt like a home here, and he gathered it probably would be for a long time until he could get a place of his own. He could have stayed at the old Black house, but Hermione had said he needed more company, and it was quite dark and dank there. The Weasleys house was very colouring and comforting. Maybe next holidays he’d go back and pick the place up now that Voldemort was gone.   
   Settling himself down onto the bed, he took off his jacket and changed into his pyjama pants before walking over to Fawkes. The bird was staying in his room, which he preferred considering it gave him a bit of company. Last time he’d stayed here he’d bunked with Ginny, but… well, of course he wouldn’t do that now. It just seemed wrong to.   
   Things hadn’t been too awkward at dinner, which had been great. He thought it might be a lot worse than it was, but Ginny had been quite friendly, and they’d been able to talk without it feeling and seeming very awkward. Things here probably weren’t going to be as bad as he thought they were.  
   Letting his hand go to the phoenix, he gave the bird a gentle scratch against the crest feathers, Fawkes giving a calm purr before he walked back to the bed. He took off his glasses and turned out the lamp beside him, closing his eyes.   
  
*****  
   The following morning, Harry’s eyes opened in shock as he felt an enormous rush of energy push through his body, making his hand clasp his mouth. He was covered in sweat, like he always was when he’d had nightmares. Of course, the link with Voldemort had ended once he’d been killed, but that didn’t mean he didn’t see the deaths of everyone in his dreams.  
   But it wasn’t a nightmare. He felt his cheeks burn a deep shade of red as he pushed himself up onto his elbows, feeling the hot, sticky semen on the front of his pants. Damn, it had been a long time since he’d had any kind of sexually arousing dream.  
   He looked around the room, as if horrified that anyone was seeing this. Fawkes was staring at him, but that hardly made him feel uncomfortable. He was just a bird, and he’d gotten used to Hedwig being awake when he was. Fawkes probably had no idea what had happened anyway.   
   Awkwardly, he pushed the covers from him and padded his way to the small ensuite that was in his room. He’d take a shower anyway, considering he hadn’t taken one last night. He needed a good clean. So he stripped his pants off and tossed his sweaty shirt into the hamper. He just hoped it was all dry before Mrs Weasley asked to do the cleaning.   
   Looking at himself in the mirror, he realised his cheeks were still a pink hue, remembering what had happened in his dream. He remembered something hard and hot being pressed into his backside. He remembered skilled fingers against his…   
   Harry blushed even brighter, having to take off his glasses so he didn’t have to look at himself.  
   He stepped into the shower, adjusting the water and letting it fall over his messy morning hair. He remembered dark hair in his dream, dark, long, shoulder length hair that was soft and silky. And then his eyes opened despite being under the water, making him cup his face.   
   It was Professor Snape!  
  
*****   
   At the breakfast table, Harry didn’t feel much like eating. As hungry as he was, he felt almost sick to the stomach. Professor Snape!? Why!? What in the world would ever make him dream of that man!? He was a bitter, cruel man who enjoyed tormenting anyone who wasn’t a Slytherin. Alright, that was probably harsher than he meant to think considering the man had spent the last seven years saving his life and protecting him.  
   He rested a hand against his cheek, feeling a chill go down his spine. Despite being clean from his shower, he felt utterly filthy from his dream. How could Snape feel so warm and loving and… passionate!? The man was anything but! He was cold, sadistic and probably didn’t even know how to really use his hands like he had in his dream.  
   Then again, the wizard was a Potioneer. He had to be skilled with his fingers. No! He wasn’t going to think that! He _couldn’t!_ And to think… if he wanted to be an Auror, he had to take Potions class. Snape was the only professor that taught Potions now that Horace Slughorn had quit. At least it wasn’t until a while before school started again. Still.  
   Snape was a man!  
   What the hell did this mean!? He knew he wasn’t really into relationships, and Cho and Ginny seemed to be a phase, but Snape was a man! A fully grown man! Surely this didn’t mean he was gay…? Wait, was it even that in the wizarding world? Or was it just normal? Did it even _have_ a name!? Argh, this was all just too much!  
  
   “Harry, are you alright? You haven’t touched your breakfast,” said Mrs Weasley, watching the boy curiously. She didn’t expect Harry to be happy as Larry right now considering everything that had happened, but even so. Harry was like another son to her, of course she would worry.      
   By now, the whole family knew about the breakup between he and Ginny, but that hardly made a difference. The boy was still one of them. They didn’t need to lose anyone else.   
  
   Looking up, Harry cleared his throat a little, looking at the bacon that was in front of him. “Sorry, I was just… Yeah, I’m fine,” he smiled, picking up his fork and deciding that he should eat something, if not just to get Mrs Weasley from asking questions.  
   The whole morning he tried to keep his mind away from the dream he’d had, but it kept coming back. It was like some kind of irritant, poking and prodding back into his head at the most awkward of times. It made him feel strange, strange in both a good and a bad way.   
   He wasn’t thinking about it on purpose, in fact, he was deliberately trying _not_ to, but the more he tried to push it away, the more the images came back, and it made his whole body shiver in both delight and disgust as he remembered those fingertips against his body, the warm chest against his back.   
   He wondered if staying at Hogwarts might have been a better idea. Maybe if he was alone, he wouldn’t have had such a dream. Maybe he would have just had his usual nightmares. Being in such a comfortable homey area had made him relaxed, had made his mind wander into strange places.   
   It did get him thinking about Professor Snape, though. A lot. Well, it was hard not to. The man wasn’t exactly the most attractive of people. He gathered that some of the girls around Hogwarts probably thought he was charming in a cruel and mysterious manner, but he hardly thought that.   
   He didn’t really know Snape on a personal level. How could he? They hated one another. Well… he thought they did until he realised what Snape had been doing this whole time.   
   Seeing in the memory that Snape had actually cared for him, he never once thought it to be in that kind of way! But he felt his cheeks warm up at the thought, his chest fluttering a little.  
   No, Snape had done what he had because he had been in love with his mother. Hell, he could be his own father if James didn’t work out! The thought of that was weird and gross, but it did make him feel bad. His father had picked on Snape far too much to the point where he couldn’t enjoy it. A snide comment here and there, but his father had been much crueller than that. He was sure he’d dislike his father just as much if he had been treated that way. It seemed like such a Malfoy thing to do…  
   It was late evening when he decided that he just couldn’t hold it in anymore. He couldn’t tell Ron, because he’d just laugh and he wasn’t mature enough to understand, so he thought Hermione would. Plus, she was the smart one; maybe she could explain that it was nothing but hormones or something.  
   Of course, telling her that he’d had a sex dream about a professor was hardly how he wanted to start the conversation. So instead, he had Fawkes sitting with him outside, and just took the opportunity when Hermione came outside to check on him.   
  
   “He’s quite lovely,” the girl said. She was wary of patting him at first, looking at the sharp, curved beak, but when Harry said it was alright, she did so, letting her fingers glide through the silky feathers.   
   “Do you suppose Snape gave him to you because he knows you’re missing Hedwig?” she asked, still wondering why the professor would ever give anything to Harry. She couldn’t say much for Snape, because she hadn’t been with him when Harry had been, so she didn’t know how he was to act around her friend—besides the usual snarky remarks. Clearly there was some good in the man, though.  
   Harry, however? She’d noticed Harry had been less hateful towards the professor ever since he’d seen the man’s memories. Had they even spoken about it yet? Maybe they had, and maybe that’s why they didn’t seem so angry with one another. She couldn’t imagine a conversation going down well between the two of them, though. And yet, she was quite curious to Harry’s intentions.   
  
   Harry frowned, giving a bit of a shrug as he remembered his owl. His first owl. His first pet, really. “I dunno…” he murmured softly into the night. “I doubt he cares about the loss of Hedwig. I don’t think he’s ever had a pet before, unless you call the dead animal parts for potions pets,” he laughed, Hermione giving a look of disgust.  
  
   “Actually, he has a very handsome raven. I saw it once delivering his mail. Although, I haven’t seen it in a long time. Maybe it’s gone now…”  
  
   Surprised, Harry didn’t know that. Then again, he’d never really cared to know. Trust Snape to have something like a raven instead of an owl, though. Something dark and mysterious.   
   “He did notice she was gone,” he said, looking at Hermione for a moment. “But… I think he knew that when she died.”  
   Snape had been in the attack that night when he’d been moved from Privet Drive, so he was pretty certain he’d seen the death of his owl. “I think maybe he just wanted to get some work done before school starts again,” he shrugged.     
  
   Hermione could see that. She knew Snape was a man who liked silence so he could get things done quickly and professionally. She was still curious and worried, though. But then maybe it was nothing. Maybe the professor was just starting to be nice because the Dark Mark wasn’t pestering him anymore? Or maybe because Voldemort was gone or… who knew, really? If anything, Harry _should_ be nicer to Snape considering what he had done for him all these years.   
  
   Looking out over the field, Harry felt a small smile crease his lips at how much this felt like home to him. Not the cupboard under the stairs, getting fed like a proper human being and surrounded by friends and family.   
   But there was something that still felt like it was missing. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew there was a certain desire that came with it, making him look back away and causing him to turn his attention back to Fawkes.   
   He wanted to tell someone what he was feeling, but the words weren’t right in his head. He couldn’t even form anything. He wouldn’t even know where to start! Maybe telling Hermione wasn’t such a good idea, and he felt even better when Ron decided to come out and join them, breaking the tension that had been slowly growing.   
   They stayed outside for a while longer before Harry decided he wanted to head to bed. He put Fawkes back on the perch, the bird leaning down to grab some food to nibble on. He headed to the bed himself, putting his clean bottoms on and slipping beneath the sheets.  
   He was about to take his glasses off and turn out the light when he heard Fawkes flap his wings, landing on the floor near his open trunk. He watched curiously as the bird dug through his things.   
   “Oi,” he whispered loudly, the bird pulling something out.  
   Pushing himself up to see what the phoenix had, he forgot that Fawkes could lift more than his own weight and all of a sudden a book was shoved onto his bed in his lap. He looked down at it. Hesitant to take it, he knew what it was, he was just surprised. Why? Why would Fawkes give him this?  
   In his lap lay the Advanced Potion-Making book that had been property of The Half-Blood-Prince, which he now knew was Snape. He’d gotten it back out of the Room of Requirement before it had been burnt down. Of course, Snape didn’t know this. No one did, actually. If Ron and Hermione found out, they’d probably have a go at him.  
   But why was Fawkes giving it to him? Wait, maybe he missed Snape? Yes, that was surely it. He smiled a little, trying to push any other thought out of his head. “When we get back to Hogwarts, I promise, the first place I’ll go is to Snape’s office so you can go back home,” he said, lifting his hand and scratching the bird’s neck.  
   Fawkes flew back to his perch and snuggled in for the night, but Harry didn’t. Instead of sleeping, he opened the book and looked at the scribbled running writing of a young Severus Snape.


	7. Harry's Eighteenth

Chapter Seven:  Harry’s Eighteenth.  
  
   The house was crowded on the 31st of July. Harry turned eighteen today and even he was surprised. He knew birthdays with his friends could be fun, but considering he was never actually here when he’d had them, he wasn’t expecting it to be quite as big. He’d never seen so many decorations before—despite Christmas time at the Weasleys.    
   There were balloons and streamers everywhere, things floating from magic, music playing. Even all the photos were clapping and dancing along. Harry just wore a grin from ear to ear. It was amazing! He’d never felt more loved.  
   Birthdays at the Dursleys were hardly that. Even when they found out about Harry being a wizard, they still made it clear that they owed him nothing. His uncle would give him an old sock or a shoe that wouldn’t even fit, or match the other. His aunt didn’t even make him a cake. Instead, he was still to get breakfast and dinner ready for the family, still getting his small rations.    
   The most exciting birthday, of course, _had_ been when he’d met Hagrid on his eleventh birthday and found out he was a wizard. It was also the first time he’d gotten a cake! That was something he’d never forget. And of course, the next birthdays with his friends.   
   But today, considering he was turning eighteen, well, it was a blast!   
   Although Harry wasn’t one to like rowdy rooms with people drinking and making a ruckus, he was more than grateful that he was surrounded by people he loved, and that made all the difference in the world.   
   He’d woken up to Ron shouting a happy birthday to him, and then he’d been swarmed by the Weasley family, gifts and cake going around the table on the bottom floor or the house. They all sang him a wizard song that wasn’t anything like the cliché Happy Birthday, instead, it was filled with names of old, famous wizards, witches and creatures.    
   Eventually, the party began to die down, and some of the Weasleys had headed to bed. He’d been thankful for the gifts he’d been given and the cake. He’d gotten some nice new knitted clothes from the Weasleys, some sweets from Ron, and some books from Hermione. Each and every one of them he appreciated more than anything.   
   Sitting outside in the grass, Ron and Hermione were with him, Fawkes scratching around in the grass as a fire was in between them.   
   “It’s been great. Thank you,” he said, Ron asking him how the day had been. Ron gave a bit of a gawking look and Hermione just laughed. He really did love it here.  
  
   “Well, I guess it’s better than your aunt and uncle’s,” the red headed boy said.   
  
   Harry rolled his eyes. “Ron, I love it here, honestly,” he insisted. He knew Ron didn’t see his home as much, but to him it was absolutely brilliant. “I hope I can come here every birthday.”   
  
   “You know you can!” Ron pushed, more than happy to have his best friend here. It seemed a bit weird, though, not getting into trouble anymore. In a way, he missed it a little. But he was more than happy to have his friend and girlfriend here with him.  
  
   At the sound of wings flapping, all three of them looked up, an owl approaching in the distance of the night. As it got closer, Harry perked up a little, Fawkes watching as well. It was a snowy owl, and for a moment, Harry wished it had been Hedwig, but he knew that wasn’t the case.   
   Landing, the owl’s great amber eyes looked at him, a letter attached to its leg. The owl had come to him, so clearly the letter was for him. He lifted his hand and took the letter, unscrolling it. Immediately he knew who the writing belonged to.  
  
 _H. Potter,  
  
   I understand that I informed you that you could have Fawkes for the holidays, but I regretfully need him returned. In turn, you may keep the owl that has brought you this notice. Her name is Spells (unoriginal in my personal opinion, but the keeper said she’s quite accustomed to it now) and I’ve been informed she is related to your previous owl—a few generations younger. Consider it a birthday present, and an appreciation for saving my life.   
  
   S. Snape. _  
  
   “Well, what’s it say?” asked Ron, his eyes eager. Hermione was curious too, leaning over a little as the owl stayed.   
  
   Looking up, Harry didn’t know what to say. He felt almost lightheaded, his heart pounding in his chest. He could also feel his cheeks burning horribly, once more thankful that it was dark outside.  
   “It’s… from Snape,” he said, looking up to Fawkes. “He needs Fawkes back.”   
  
   “Typical,” Ron muttered.  
  
   “What about the owl? He’s not making you pay, is he?” asked Hermione, noticing the owl was still sitting there. Usually they waited to be paid, or if something was to be sent back. But if this was just to deliver a message, usually they dropped it off and left.   
  
   “He… said I can keep her—as a present…” Harry murmured, surprise clear in his voice. He looked at the owl as Ron snatched the letter from his hands, not believing him.  
  
   “Blimey…” Ron murmured, his eyes wide as he read the letter a few times over just in case he read it wrong. He showed Hermione, and she just looked at Harry.   
  
   “Well… you _did_ save his life, Harry,” the witch said, shrugging her shoulders. She was watching her friend intently now, watching for any kind of signs to how Harry felt about all of this. They hadn’t even spoken properly since Snape had been attacked and gotten better, but she doubted that was Harry’s fault. Snape wasn’t one to ‘get to know’ easily.   
  
   Harry just looked astonished, his eyes going to the snowy owl (known as Spells) that waddled over and nibbled on his fingers. She was related to Hedwig? It must have been a brother or sister who had had owlets later down the years. She had a striking resemblance to Hedwig, though, and he liked that.   
   Lifting his hand, he gave her a small pat on the head, and she seemed to enjoy it.   
   To his knowledge, Hedwig had never had any owlets, so he was definitely a relative of hers. He didn’t even _know_ she had any family! How Snape did, he had no idea… Did Snape actually go _looking_ for this information? Did he purposely choose this owl for him? Or just buy her from the same store?  
   Harry’s chest felt like chaos inside and his head was even worse. Snape had gone out of his way and done something nice for him. So he needed an owl to send the letter, but he could have borrowed someone else’s. And Hermione said he’d once had a raven, although if he was favouring Fawkes, it probably meant the bird had disappeared or passed. Even so… giving him an owl? This was the second time he’d been given an owl for his birthday. Hedwig from Hagrid, and now Spells from Snape.   
  
   “You gunna keep her name as Spells?” asked Ron, giving the letter back. He didn’t know how he personally felt about Snape giving Harry a gift. Not to mention they helped. He felt a little cheated, then again, he wouldn’t trust something from Snape at all. It would probably be poisoned or cursed.   
  
   “I dunno… I think I’ll keep it as Spells if that’s what she likes,” said Harry, the owl fluffing up in approval. “I’m not very good with names, to be honest… and I think she likes it, so Snape said.”   
  
   Ron shrugged, not minding, and Hermione nodded. “It’s up to you, Harry. She’s your owl now,” the girl said, giving a gentle smile. She leant her hand out and patted the owl, Spells giving a soft nibble to her fingers.   
  
   Mrs Weasley soon came outside with a candle in her hands. “Come along now, dears, you best be heading into bed,” she said in her best motherly voice.   
   She gave a curious look to the new owl that was sitting with them. “What have you got there, Harry?”  
  
   Standing, Harry let the owl up onto his arm, Fawkes now on Hermione. “I got an owl for my birthday, Mrs Weasley,” he said. “Well, I guess it was more a convenience if anything. Professor Snape needed Fawkes back, and he said I could keep her.”      
  
   Molly’s eyes widened a little. “Well… how generous,” she said, nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll have to send the perch back tomorrow morning. I hope he doesn’t mind the delay. Hedwig’s old cage is still here, so the new one can quite easily stay there in your room—if you’re okay with that, dear?”   
  
   “Of course. More than happy, Mrs Weasley,” Harry nodded, looking to Fawkes.   
   They headed inside and Harry took both of the birds into his room. Already they seemed to be more than friendly with one another, nibbling and preening each other. He was worried Fawkes may have gotten jealous. He knew Hedwig had when he’d talk or play with other birds.    
   Harry smirked, walking over to his trunk to grab out some parchment. He’d have to write to Snape saying that the perch would be delayed, just so he knew. So grabbing his ink and quill, he scribbled down a small thank you before rolling it up.   
   Walking over to Fawkes, he gave a sad smile, but he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he’d see him. He still had to give Professor Snape his potions book back and he’d give him a personal thank you for Spells. He also needed to talk to Snape about Potion lessons still.  
   Knowing that his score hadn’t been enough to get into Snape’s class before (and only got in it before of Professor Slughorn), he doubted this new year he would make it into the Potions class. But if he wanted to become an Auror—which he did—then he’d have to ask how he could get into the class.  
   He had a feeling it wasn’t going to be easy. Actually, Snape was very strict, so he had a feeling that he wouldn’t even get a position at all. But maybe if he asked Professor McGonagall then she could persuade Snape into letting him into his classes.    
   Wrapping the letter around Fawkes’ leg, Harry gave him a small goodbye pat. “I need you to go back to Professor Snape, alright?” he said, the bird’s eyes looking at his. He knew Fawkes was listening and he knew he’d get right on it.   
   “I’ll see you when school starts, I promise,” he said, leaning in and giving Fawkes a small kiss on the soft forehead feathers. Fawkes gave a chirp of approval before he flew off and out the open window. He watched, hearing a new set of wings as Spells landed on the perch that had been used for Fawkes.  
   “Sorry, girl… I don’t have any owl treats here, just what Fawkes ate. You can go hunting if you like, though. There should be plenty of food out there in the field,” he noted, giving her a smile. He took her onto his arm and leant her out the window. Within a swift movement, the snowy owl was gliding over the field surrounding the Weasleys house.   
   Leaving the window open for her return, Harry got out Hedwig’s old cage, which would now be home to Spells. Although she wouldn’t sleep in it tonight, he figured he would set it up anyway before heading to bed.  
   Once he was done, he brushed his teeth, changed into his pyjamas and went to sleep.  
  
*****    
   Things hadn’t only been confusing for Harry Potter these holidays. Back at Hogwarts, Severus Snape found himself sitting in the Headmistress’ office, McGonagall out.   
   Standing with his arms by his side, he approached the portrait of Dumbledore that was sitting up on the wall that he’d seeked guidance off after he’d killed the man.  
   It hadn’t been the first time he’d been here since the start of the holidays. Since his wounds were healed now, he’d been up and around the castle quite a few times. Seeing Albus, if only in a portrait, was still a comfort to him.   
   Even if Dumbledore had never been clear with his actions, and it pissed Severus off to know he’d been used—as well as Harry—in many ways he was still loyal. He had to be. Dumbledore had taken him in when the Dark Lord could have killed him, as well as Albus.   
   He’d spied for this man, he’d put his life on the line for Potter, and yet… he still came back. Because Dumbledore, despite his actions, had been there for him. He’d helped him. He’d taken him in. He’d allowed him to have a career here at Hogwarts, even as a former Death Eater and follower of the Dark Lord. And in many ways, Dumbledore was more of a father than his own ever had been.   
  
   “Back again, Severus?” said the man in the portrait, his blue eyes sparkling behind his half-moon glasses. “I hope you haven’t come here to ask for forgiveness again. You already know that I asked you to kill me.”  
  
   Snape merely leant a hand against the desk, his head down. “You used me, Albus,” he said darkly, his eyes looking up. “I don’t blame you for your actions, I walked right into them. I told you I would do anything for you, and in turn, I have.”   
   Severus knew Dumbledore had rubbed his crimes in like salt in a fresh wound, and he did it quite often. Saying that he owed Lily. He owed James. He owed Harry. He did not deny that he owed each and every single one of them, but what did he owe them now? Why did he have to continue living this life? He had no happiness, and now he was starting to have a strange liking towards the boy? Harry was fine! He didn’t need protecting any longer! Why make him stay?   
  
   “Then why are you here?” asked the older wizard, his eyes looking down to the pale man.   
  
   A helpless sigh came from Severus, the professor sitting down into the chair that was behind the office desk. McGonagall hadn’t rearranged much, which pleased him. He hadn’t either. Dumbledore had had a fine office, and there wasn’t much need for any kind of fresh decorating.   
   He’d already told Albus about what he’d experienced in what he thought was the afterlife. Albus, like always, didn’t say much, or at least help him in any way. He’d just said that just because it was in his head hadn’t meant it wasn’t real. Some help that was.   
   Severus was beginning to think it was just a dream. Lily would never truly forgive him. Not for putting her life, her husband’s, and her son’s lives in danger.   
   “I seek your guidance. Understandably, I recognised what my role was when you were alive. To protect her son. But now that he is not in need of protection, why do I have this overwhelming urge that I still need to?” he asked, leaning his hands onto the arms of the chair.  
  
   Albus gave a sparkling smile. “My dear boy, we both know through Harry’s stay here at Hogwarts that you’ve learnt to care for him,” he said, as if it were obvious.  
  
   “Albus, I am hardly a boy,” Severus noted rather aggressively. Despite feeling as confused as one right now, he was a grown man! Although the older wizard had used him, Albus had still been a mentor and a friend to him. He still owed him his life.   
   Dumbledore could have killed him that night he had told the Dark Lord about the Prophecy. He could have killed him any time during his stay at Hogwarts, but he hadn’t. He’d owed him a debt, and he’d taken that into his hands. His own devotion to Lily had clearly made him trustworthy.  
   Albus was never able to save Lily, but did he see that as Dumbledore’s fault? Hardly. He’d been the one to tell the Dark Lord of the Prophecy. If he hadn’t have… maybe Lily would still be alive. Her death was his fault. He knew it deep down—even if it was Peter Pettigrew who had given the whereabouts away and betrayed all of them.    
  
   Dumbledore gave a light chuckle. “I’ve seen you grow from a boy to a man here, Severus. You are still much younger than I. Therefore, you’re still a boy to me,” he said, inclining his head when Severus rolled his eyes.    
  
   “That’s beside the point, Albus!” snapped the Potioneer. He stood up, pacing the room with his hands behind his back, his robes flowing behind him. “What does he need from me? Now that the Dark Lord is gone, why should I stay here?”  
  
   The wizard in the picture frame just watched. “Why are you here, indeed, Severus?”   
  
   Snape stopped pacing, turning his head over his shoulder almost fiercely. He hated when Dumbledore did that! He was asking for assistance and guidance here, and all Albus was going to do was ask him questions that he didn’t know the answers to? Infuriating!   
   “Even in death you’re a pain in the rear end,” he muttered. He turned, putting a hand to his forehead and expelling a sigh, his other hand sitting on his hip.   
   He knew why he was still here. His whole life had been here at Hogwarts. This _was_ his life. Teaching. And before that it was obviously protecting Harry Potter and serving Dumbledore the best he could. Was that all he’d been? A pawn? Could he be nothing else than that? And now that there was nothing left, he’d just wither away?  
  
   “Severus, each and every person in the world has some kind of purpose to be here,” said Dumbledore, Snape’s dark eyes looking back at him. “Lily wanted you here for a reason.” He peered over his half-moon glasses. “I have a feeling you know why.”   
  
   To protect the boy, obviously. But he didn’t _need_ protection! “The Dark Lord is gone, Albus!” he stressed, brushing his fingers through his hair for a moment. He gave an exasperated sigh, looking at the moving picture on the wall.     
  
   “You seem quite worried about this, Severus. I haven’t seen you this upset since I told you that you must kill me,” the bearded wizard mused. “It seems that you’ve truly come to care for the young man after all.”  
  
   A scoff came from Snape’s throat, looking away from the other portraits. They all seemed to lean in eagerly now as he folded his arms and turned. He arched a brow.  
  
   “Severus?”  
  
   “Yes?” snapped the younger wizard, his robes swirling as he turned around.   
  
   Dumbledore put his hands together as he sat in the seat in the portrait. “Is there… something you wish to tell me?” he asked gently, his eyes peering over his half-moon glasses once more.   
  
   All of a sudden, Severus found himself as stiff as a board, all the eyes in the room on him.   
“No,” he said, his hands coming out before he put them back by his sides.  
   There were a thousand things he wished he could tell the other, and yet, why bother? Half of them probably made no sense, and Dumbledore certainly didn’t need to know about them.   
   He remembered the day Potter had stood up for him, and he tried to push away the fact that his body had reacted so strangely towards the whole thing. Thank Merlin that McGonagall had come in. If not, he had no idea what may have happened.  
   Sure, he was a man, he knew all about sexual frustration. He’d never dated, he’d been loyal to the love of his life even though she was never his—even after her death. She was the only one he’d ever loved. There had been no one else.  
   But did that mean he didn’t become weak from time to time? Of course he did. He was only human. Everyone fell to the temptation sooner or later. Besides, it was a completely natural thing. It became painful if something wasn’t done about it, and as much as potions could subdue the feeling, there was only enough he could take before finally giving into human nature.    
   He pushed the thoughts aside the best he could. Right now was not the time to be thinking about such things. Especially when it involved such a little prat like Harry Potter. He was just going to blame that on his loneliness and nothing more.  
  
   “Well, perhaps you should consider that maybe Lily thought Harry could help _you_ , Severus,” spoke Dumbledore once more, considering he wasn’t going to get an honest answer out of the professor this evening. He would be sure to ask Minerva about Severus’ and Harry’s action later when she came back.   
  
   Snape stiffened again, looking up at the portrait. “Now I’m convinced you’re mad,” he muttered, though hearing a light chuckle from Albus.   
   “Besides the point that we are speaking of such a highly unlikely event, what could Potter _possibly_ need to aid me with?” he asked, raising a brow sarcastically as he figured he’d had the old man pinned.   
  
   Albus put his hands together once more. “I think the both of you could aid one another greatly in more ways than one,” he said, Snape’s brow going back down.   
  
   By now, Severus was getting quite impatient with the older wizard’s antics. So Harry Potter was a powerful wizard, but it was a shame the fool didn’t know how to harvest and use it like he did his own. Harry was just a boy still. He hardly thought he could help him in any way possible.   
  
   “School will be starting soon, Severus, and I imagine there will be many new young witches and wizards who would love to get to know Harry.”  
  
   Snape scowled mentally. Of course there would be. He was the _famous_ Harry Potter. A celebrity star for everyone to have a piece of.   
   He rolled his eyes once more, turning to walk out of the office.  
  
   “Lily was right, Severus.”  
  
   Snape stopped almost immediately, his robes hitting against the back of his legs and swaying. He looked over his shoulder, waiting for the man to speak again.   
  
   “Goodnight, my boy. Sleep well.”  
  
   Gritting his teeth, the Potions master left the room, knowing it was nearly impossible to get much sense out of Dumbledore. Even when he was working for him the man never made anything easy for him. All these twisted words that made no sense. Why couldn’t he just state the facts and be reasonable?   
   That just wasn’t Albus Dumbledore.  
   Returning down to the dungeons, Severus removed his outer robes, tossing them onto the lounge in his sitting office. Fawkes had returned, and was sitting on the perch that had been delivered a few days back from the Weasley house.  
   He didn’t know why he bothered going to Dumbledore for any kind of assistance anymore. The man never gave him anything useful. Or at least anything that made much sense. Then again, what more could he expect from the old wizard?  
   And yet, he still trusted his judgement and would follow his orders until death. Dumbledore may not be alive anymore (but in a portrait in the Headmistress’ office), but… it was the only thing he had left. He owed the man his life until he was dead himself.   
   Walking over to Fawkes, who he’d come quite accustomed to by now, he lifted his hand and rewarded the bird with a gentle pat on the head, Fawkes cooing into the touch. And now that he was alone, he let a rare smile crease his lips before he retired for the night.


	8. Returning to Hogwarts

Chapter Eight: Returning to Hogwarts  
  
   As if it wasn’t bad enough being on the train and hearing whispers and people wanting autographs, but it was even worse at Hogwarts itself. Harry hadn’t had a moment to himself since he’d gotten here.   
   The start of year banquet was about to begin and he was caught in the middle of a bunch of first years who wanted to hear him speak, see his scar, see the Elder Wand (which he’d snapped in half), and even touch him! It was more than he could handle.   
   He could hear Ron and Hermione trying to push the kids out of the way and let him through, Ron tossing out insults left and right. The kids were disappointed, but Harry was more than happy to see them starting to part. However, it was only because McGonagall came into view and got them back in line. Even as Headmistress, she was still the Head of Sorting.  
   “Potter, get inside. You, too, Weasley and Granger, you’ve been sorted years ago,” she snapped, a list of new years’ names in her hands. Harry was more than happy to nod eagerly and walk past her, escaping the murmurs of disappointment from the younger group.   
  
   “Bloody vultures, I tell you,” Ron muttered, opening the doors and sitting at the Gryffindor table.   
  
   Harry felt Hermione rub his shoulder and he nodded in thanks before sitting opposite the two.   
  
   “I’m sure it won’t be like that all year,” the girl tried to reassure, though Ron raising a brow. She knew Harry was famous and that people thanked him for the defeat of Voldemort, but she hated seeing her friend like this. She knew he just wanted some peace and quiet.  
  
   “You’re kidding. Harry’s as famous as they come, ‘Mione,” the red-headed boy said, though stopping when he received a very sharp glare from his girlfriend. “Right… I’m sure it’ll get better, mate.”   
  
   Harry just stared into his empty plate, his hands on the table before him. He didn’t want to think what it was going to be like for him if this was what his life was going to end up being. Constant noise, people wanting so much from him. He just wanted his own privacy! Maybe living in the cupboard under the stairs wasn’t such a bad thing after all.  
   Harry pushed his glasses up as the first years walked in, tailing McGonagall. He remembered when that was him. He was so nervous—he could imagine them all being just as nervous. Even then he was famous, though. Although he had no idea why he was so famous at the time.   
   It was childish of him to think that everything would change once Voldemort was gone. Of course he knew people would be thankful, but wanting to _touch_ him!? It was ludicrous! He wasn’t some kind of bag to be tossed around to feed them all their glory. He was just an eighteen year old boy!  
   An eighteen year old boy who had defeated one of the most powerful wizards of all time. An eighteen year old boy who no one thought could do all of that. But he’d had his friends and family by his side from the start. And that’s all he wanted to be with right now. He knew taking his final year at Hogwarts was going to be a complete disaster.  
   The Sorting Ceremony went on as it did every year, and Harry wondered what his life could have been like if he had been put in Slytherin House. Would Snape have hated him just as much? Would he have looked after him as one of his Snakes?   
   The Sorting Hat had made it clear that he was simply put in Gryffindor because he had wanted to be there. He had _chosen_ to be there. But what if he hadn’t? What if he hadn’t seen Malfoy and gotten such bad vibes off him that he didn’t choose not to be there?   
   He ran his hand against the scar that was on his forehead. There honestly wasn’t much point in thinking about it anymore. He was in his final year at Hogwarts and it wasn’t like he could change it all now. He did wonder, though.  
   As the final first year was sorted, McGonagall explained all the school rules like Dumbledore once had and then the banquet began. Harry couldn’t help but laugh as the first years’ new to Gryffindor all gasped in awe as the food appeared before them.   
   Harry took it upon himself to grab a chicken leg and eat. Hogwarts had always had amazing food. Especially considering what he’d eaten when living with the Dursleys. He always made sure to eat plenty while he could.  
   Of course, he heard the whispers and saw the looks people were giving him. He tried his best to ignore it. He figured it would be easy, that he should be used to it by now, but this time, having actually _defeated_ Voldemort, it was much worse.   
   Girls were giggling at him, giving him dreamy looks (even some boys), and it felt like his skin was crawling from all the trying-to-be-subtle glances that came his way.  
  
   “Don’t worry ‘bout it, mate,” said Ron, his mouth full of beef, “They’ll all get over it soon. They’re just first years,” he shrugged, shooting one of them a glare as they were staring at Harry. The young boy quickly looked away.  
  
   Hermione nodded, putting her hand on Harry’s. “Ron’s right, Harry,” she said, Ron giving her a surprised look—typical of him when she complimented his thoughts. “You’re a big name right now, but it’ll die down soon. Someone else will appear and be the latest headline. It’s only a matter of time.”  
  
   When had that ever been the case, though? Harry was always in the tabloids. He felt like he couldn’t even go to the toilet without his privacy being invaded. It’s why he used so many warding spells when he went to sleep or had his back turned. He had to. Call him paranoid, but he had to do it for his own protection.   
   He nodded, though, not wanting his friends to worry about him. “I’m sure it will,” he lied, giving a small smile to his friends before pushing his plate aside. He wasn’t feeling very hungry anymore.   
   He wanted to return to the common-room already, but he knew he had other things to tend to. Hogwarts didn’t give you much time to get anything organised as school started immediately (tomorrow morning), and he needed to ask Professor Snape if he could get into his classes this year.   
   He’d ask about Ron, too. Although… there was something telling him to not even mention Ron, but he didn’t know what it was and why. Maybe he just wanted to be alone with Snape so he could finally talk to him…? He didn’t know.  
   Over the holidays, it had been horribly frustrating. His mind hadn’t let Snape out of it and he’d had more than one dream about the Potions professor. It made him angry because he didn’t know what it meant. He’d just broken up with Ginny a few months ago and here he was having rather… explicit dreams about a man!  
   He hadn’t told anyone about them. He didn’t know how. It was actually quite embarrassing. He’d wanted to tell someone, just so it was off his chest, but he just didn’t know how to. Plus… it was Professor Snape!   
   The bad thing was, the more he’d stayed away from the professor… the more he felt like he wanted to be in the same room as him. Like he _needed_ to be. He felt sort of… disconnected without him being around.  
   As everyone else was eating and chatting, he looked up to the High Table, seeing all the new professors who would be teaching here now. There were a few new faces, and of course, there were some familiar ones as well which made him pleased.  
   Hagrid was one. He’d be teaching the class of Care of Magical Creatures again, which pleased him. Hagrid had been so nervous the first time he’d taught them and it looked like McGonagall had been alright with giving him the position again. Despite Hagrid not being allowed to use magic as he never graduated and had been expelled, magical creatures was completely different, and Hagrid was more than suitable for the position.   
   His eyes went a few seats across to find his chest thumping surprisingly hard into his head. He swallowed heavily and tried to keep his blood-flow down, feeling his cheeks flush. There sat Professor Snape in deep conversation with the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.  
   “Harry,” came a voice, Ginny sitting beside him. He immediately spun around and looked at her, trying to cover up his flush as if he’d been caught looking at Professor Snape.   
   He smiled lightly as a mug was pushed in front of him to drink.   
  
   “You really need to eat and drink some more before the night’s out, Harry,” said the red-haired girl.   
  
   “Yeah… sorry,” Harry mumbled, picking up the drink. He didn’t have any more food, but just to please Ginny, he had a drink of the cup she’d given him, smiling softly.   
   Eventually, McGonagall stood up and told them that they were all to return to their dormitories and that the Prefects would be leading them back. Unfortunately for Harry, this meant a crowd trying to talk to him as soon as all the Houses were allowed out of the Great Hall.  
   He tried to ignore them the best he could and it made him even more angry that the Prefects couldn’t get a hold of their House members.   
   He could feel his anger beginning to flare, and he felt both Ron and Hermione trying to push people out of the way for him. His name was being whispered and called out, people saying things like ‘is that really him?’ and ‘that’s Harry Potter!’. Harry was getting more than annoyed now, and he actually went for his wand before he felt a wrist grab at his hand and stop him.  
   “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Mister Potter. Unless you wish to be expelled?” said a dark yet soothing voice. Harry looked up behind him, feeling a comfortable surge of magic going through him as he saw Snape’s dark eyes on him. Immediately, he looked away and flushed, but took his hand back.   
   Somehow the thought of expulsion didn’t seem so bad right now.   
  
   “Get to your common-rooms. You heard the Headmistress!” snapped Snape, everyone seeming horrified to see the professor. Immediately, they begun getting back in line and Snape looked back to Potter, giving him a scowl.  
   “I see your celebrity status hasn’t changed much,” he drawled, eyes flat. “Get to your common-room before I take points off you for creating such a disturbance in the corridors,” he said, turning on his heal, his robes billowing behind him.   
  
   “Wait, Professor!” Harry called out, Ron and Hermione still beside him. He told them that they could go back as he needed to talk to Snape, and the both of them hesitantly did so.   
  
   Snape turned, raising a brow in question. He couldn’t lie to himself; Harry had been on his mind quite a fair bit during the holidays. He’d often pushed the thoughts aside, thinking they were stupid, but he didn’t completely disregard of them. As much as he’d tried to, it seemed impossible.  
  
   “I… can I speak to you privately?” asked Harry, his eyes looking at the taller wizard.   
  
   Severus kept his gaze as simple as possible, his hands going behind him. “And what, Mister Potter, would you be needing to speak to me about that cannot be done so here, or cannot wait until a more appropriate time?” he asked curiously, watching the boy carefully.   
   He could feel the anger that Harry had been experiencing a few moments ago. Of course, most of the teachers were probably aware of what had been happening as they’d been heading to their own quarters for the night as well (and to speak to their new House members), which annoyed him that no one else had stepped in. Why did it have to be him? It only made him more furious at Potter.  
   He’d seen the commotion coming. How could he not? Harry Potter was a famous wizard for his actions and everyone seemed to want a piece of him. Snape mentally scoffed as he’d seen the whole thing.   
   As a professor, though, it was a duty to look after the students, and so he’d had to eventually step in when he’d seen Potter going for his wand—not to mention he could feel the surges of angry magic coming from him. Such a lack of control.   
  
   “I wanted to take Potions this year,” said Harry, though looking down as he knew the answer would be a no. To his surprise, Snape didn’t laugh or scoff or… even say anything.   
   He looked back up, feeling the urge to explain himself, “I know I’m not very good at it, sir, but I have a feeling that if I was given a better chance… and… I need it to become an Auror.”   
  
   Snape looked at the boy in surprise. Harry Potter wasn’t _bad_ at Potions, he just didn’t put in the effort! For Merlin’s sake, his mother was just as good as Severus had been! She was extremely gifted in Potions. If Harry did the work correctly then he would have been just as great! Instead, he let his fame get to his head and he flunked it. Just like his father!   
   Letting his hands fall to his sides, he shrugged. “Your scores are too far gone for my classes, Potter,” he said as if it were obvious. “It wouldn’t be possible unless you had some kind of tutor to aid you in catching up. I’m sure Quidditch still has many openings for you,” he said sarcastically, giving a mean smirk.  
  
   Harry didn’t like the look on Snape’s face and he had a feeling that the wizard was purposely trying to make him angry. Why!? After all that had happened between them, he figured Snape’s attitude would have changed.   
   He was wrong.  
   He felt deflated. As much as he would have loved to play professional Quidditch, it wasn’t what his heart wanted. He wanted to be an Auror. He always had. Sure, Quidditch was fun, but it was just a hobby. It wasn’t the career choice he was looking for.  
  
   “Good evening, Mister Potter, I have to return to my Slytherins,” Snape muttered, clearly pleased with himself. He stopped when he felt a surge of magic strike against his arm, making him turn as Harry’s hand was on him.  
   “Potter!” he hissed, shrugging his sleeve free and ignoring the pulse of sheer pleasure that had gone through him from the young man’s touch.   
  
   “You save my life for seven years, you let me have Fawkes over the holidays, you even buy me an _owl_ , and then once I come back here you treat me like scum again!?” Harry yelled, outraged.   
   “All I want is to get into your class so I can have a _normal_ career in my life. The only normal thing I’ll probably ever have and you’re going to rob me of that!? The only normalcy I can ever have because no one else can look past what I’ve done!?”  
  
   Severus’ eyes widened in surprise, though a tingle of delight hitting in his stomach as he watched how angry Harry was. It wasn’t his sadistic side that was making him feel that way, which surprised him even more. He didn’t quite know what it was, but he enjoyed it—even if he soon felt guilty.  
  
   “Do you honestly hate me that much, Professor?”  
  
   Hate? The words hit Severus like a hammer as he looked at the boy. He didn’t… _hate_ Harry. He never truly _hated_ him. He disliked him many a times for his celebrity status, his arrogance and the way he reminded him so much of his father, but he had never truly _hated_ him. How could he? He was, after all, part Lily.   
   He felt his hands clench at the thought that Harry could say he hated him. After all he’d ever done for him!? After risking his life numerous amounts of times for that stupid boy! How dare he stand there and say he hated him!?  
   “You churlish little prat,” he spat nastily, Harry’s eyes narrowing. “I risked my life for you and this is the appreciation I receive? I could have easily handed you over to the Dark Lord, but I did not! I risked my life day after day for you, Potter, and you dare say that I _hate_ you!?”   
  
   Harry was surprised at that. He was expecting to hear Snape retort that he did hate him, that he was arrogant just like his father. When he didn’t, he just stared at him, a little confused in what to say.  
   If he didn’t hate him, then why did he treat him so badly? Why did he always single him out? Pick on him? Make him feel horrible in front of all the other students!?  
   “Why, then? Why can’t you ever be nice to me?” he asked, his green eyes piercing the darkest of brown ones.   
   “I know there’s good in you, Professor, I’ve seen it… but then why could you never be nice to me? You humiliated me the first day I came here! I felt awful! I let my House down because you took points from me and I had no idea what you were talking about even though I _had_ read the books. I can’t read everything at once, you know?”   
  
   “Because I _had_ to, you insolent fool,” snapped Snape. “Do you think the Dark Lord would have trusted me if I was _nice_ to you!? If I favoured you!? Not to mention you were the spawn of such an arrogant moron of a man,” he muttered.   
  
   Looking back up, Harry’s eyes watched as the professor looked away. So he hated him because he reminded him of James so much?   
   Harry frowned. He couldn’t help the way he looked! And he was far from the same as his father. James had been cruel to Snape as a kid, he knew that, and he understood completely why Snape may have been mean to him. Still, he wasn’t his father and Snape should have known that. He didn’t even give him a chance to prove himself!  
   “What will it do to prove to you that I am not like my father?” he asked, quite serious about his offer. He hated it that Snape always mentioned his father. Not only did he bad mouth the man (which he could understand why, even if it got to be like a broken record), but it made him feel worse about himself. He loved his father. No doubt about it, but he did _not_ want to be seen that way. He was not arrogant. He didn’t like the fame! He hated it! He just wanted a normal life!  
  
   Snape scoffed. “Nothing will ever prove to me that you are not as egotistical as that man was,” he made clear. “Now, before I take off ten points from your House and displease your new fan-club, I’d suggest getting back to your common-room, Potter.”  
  
   As Snape turned around, Harry growled, his teeth gritting. “You’re such a jerk!” he snapped out, wishing he could reach for his wand and hex the man. He’d saved his life for Christ’s sake! This was seriously how he was going to treat him!? After sending him confused messages with Fawkes and Spells?   
  
   Turning, Severus smirked. “Ten points, Potter, and if you open your silly mouth again, I’ll be adding a month’s detention.”  
   Harry’s lips went tight, but his eyes were saying something else. They were furious! He’d never seen them so angry before—and hurt (at least not from him).   
   The boy said nothing, though, so he turned around and headed back to the dungeons.  
  
   Harry felt his hands shaking in intense range. He wished the man would just trip and fall flat on his face or something. But he realised if he thought that, it might actually happen, and he remembered accidental magic could happen, so he looked away and stormed back to the Gryffindor common-room angry and flustered.  
  
*****    
   “Ten points already, Potter?” McGonagall sighed, still Head of House. She’d just gone through the rules when Harry stepped through the door. All of the first years were settling into their rooms, the older students out and about. She would be sending them to bed soon.  
  
   “Sorry, Professor,” Harry said, his head bowing. “I didn’t mean it, it just slipped out. I thought things might have changed, you know? Apparently not. I’m an idiot to think Professor Snape would ever cut me some slack.”  
  
   McGonagall frowned, putting her hand to the young man’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Potter, I will have a word with him.”  
  
   That made Harry’s heart lurch at the thought. He didn’t want Snape thinking he was a baby and went and told on him about what had happened!   
   “No,” he said, putting his hand up, “it’s fine, Professor… I don’t want any more trouble coming out of it. I’ll just try and stay out of his way.”  
  
   “And what of your classes?” asked the elderly witch. “I will talk to Professor Snape about it. I’m sure he’s just being picky because of your final marks. I’m sure I can persuade him to reconsider.”   
  
   “Professor, please, I don’t want to make anything big out of this,” Harry protested. The last thing he wanted was for Snape to hate him even more. He knew he didn’t have class with him anymore (since Snape clearly said no), but that didn’t mean Snape didn’t see him in the corridors. He’d be watching him like a hawk, just _trying_ to make him suffer. It honestly wasn’t anything new. Protecting him or not, Snape never showed it.  
  
   McGonagall shook her head gently. “Potter, this is your future we are discussing. I will talk to Professor Snape, if only to mention your grades. I don’t care if you don’t want me to, I am the Headmistress here, therefore I have full authority on what classes you may enter.”   
  
   It was no use to argue with her, and Harry knew it. Instead, he just nodded glumly.  
  
   “Good. Now, off to bed, Potter, and the rest of you. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” Even though she was the Headmistress, she still enjoyed taking her Transfiguration classes.  
  
   When the Headmistress left, Harry apologised to the group of Gryffindors about the loss of points on the first day (again). None of them seemed to mind, knowing what Snape could be like—and the first years would soon find out. Harry, though? He was utterly disappointed that he’d cost them so many points already. He was even more disappointed that Snape clearly hadn’t changed, and it pissed him off that he’d acted so mean towards him when all he’d asked for was some help.  
   So much for saving the man’s life. He almost regretted it. No, that wasn’t true. As much as he wished it was right now, the pain in his gut and chest was actually a lot more hurt than anything else.   
   He thought Snape had started to like him, sending him Fawkes and Spells. So much for that.  
   Heading upstairs to the boy’s room, he walked over to the snowy owl that was perched up on his nightstand. “Hey, Spells,” he murmured, patting the owl. She gave a soft chitter to his pats and nibbled on him. Harry just smiled.  
   Changing, he slipped under the covers and tried his best to sleep. At least it was quiet in here and there was no one trying to get his signature or touch him.  
   Why hadn’t anyone else stood up for him? Why was it just Snape that had been there? He knew all of the Houses were returning to their common-rooms, but surely another teacher had seen what was going on. He was being _hounded_ by people! It was insane! And Snape had been the one to shoo them all off.  
   For a moment, Harry had enjoyed the professor being there behind him, protecting him from such savages. He could feel the magic from the man as he’d grabbed his wand hand and lowered it. Could he have just been protecting the other students (and potentially himself) from Harry’s accidental magic that could have happened?  
   Typical.   
   He meant nothing to Snape. It made him angry and all he could think about was hating the man. Unfortunately, he couldn’t. At the same time, he was thinking about Ginny for some strange reason.    
   Why Ginny? Snape, he could understand (well, not really, but he was bothered by him at the moment), but Ginny?   
   He frowned at the feeling of Ginny being on his mind again. Had he done the wrong thing in breaking up with her?  
  
*****  
   Severus removed his teaching robes and laid them down on the back of the chair in his office before sitting at his desk. He’d just got done with telling the new Snakes the rules of the Slytherin common-room as well as if they needed anything and where to find him.   
   The Prefects had already informed them of the dormitory password. Like every year, though, he expected to find some of them standing out there trying to remember it.   
   He rolled his eyes at how silly they could be. He’d never forgotten the passwords, even with how many changes they had to them. Well, that was children. Dunderheads.   
   Considering classes started right away tomorrow, he gathered a few things and got ready.   
   When he was making notes, he heard a knock on his door. He figured it was one of the new students, so he got up and opened it, surprised to see Minerva standing there.  
   Immediately, the surprise faded and he knew why she was here. He folded his arms. “Potter sent his cat after me?” he smirked, though allowing her inside. He didn’t have much choice—she _was_ the Headmistress.   
  
   Minerva closed the door behind her, rolling her eyes at the Animagus joke. “You’re talking about the boy’s future here, Severus,” she said sternly. “Can’t you see that he was asking you for help? As horrifying as that thought is.”  
  
   Severus sat back down. “Potter’s marks are too low from the previous years, not to mention he only got into that ridiculous Slug-Club because he was cheating,” he mumbled. Minerva gave him a strange look. “Potter found my previous school book and decided to steal it for himself. I’d made numerous notes on the pages and he’d managed to use some of my own spells. Dangerous spells, I might add.”   
  
   “Yes, I remember,” she muttered, not even bothering to ask how _that_ had come to be in the boy’s possession. How Severus could leave his old books lying around for other students to find bewildered her. With everything that had gone on, that year had been dangerous at Hogwarts. Perhaps Severus had intended for Potter to find it? She didn’t ask. He’d never admit to it either way.    
   “The point is, Severus, you know the boy has it in him to learn Potions. You were Lily Potter’s friend. You saw how good of a student she was. It’s in his blood. You just need to give him a chance to prove himself.”  
  
   Severus found himself stiffening at the mention of Lily ‘Potter’. He sometimes forgot that others knew so much about his past now from his memories.   
   He intertwined his hands onto the table. “That is beside the point. He flunked his tests. He failed. Why should I be willing to give him a second chance when he already has proven that he does not have the concentration for such intricate detailing? Potter is nothing like his mother.”  
  
   “You’re wrong, Severus,” said the witch, seeing the man’s brow tighten. “Potter is more like his mother than you let on. He may resemble James, but he has his mother’s heart. Today he put his faith in you, and you disappointed him.”   
  
   Like he cared? Snape sneered. “You think I care for that boy’s feelings? Now that the Dark Lord is gone, I hardly care for the boy’s emotional and hormonal state. He’s a teenager. He’ll get over it and realise that life isn’t fair, just like the rest of us have.”   
  
   Minerva scowled. “So that’s all this is? You’re just teaching Harry that he can’t always get what he wants even if he tries hard? Just like you, Severus?” She shook her head.   
   “Don’t make the boy suffer just because you didn’t get what you wanted in life. Harry Potter saved your life thinking you had murdered Dumbledore for the sake of Voldemort. Harry Potter sat by your side while you were recovering from your wounds after the defeat of Voldemort, and he’s been trying his best to get to know you ever since and this is how you repay him? Throwing it all back in his face? You selfish child.”   
  
   That made Severus’ hands go tight. “I am not a child!”   
  
   “Then prove it!” Minerva yelled, her hands going out. “You will meet Potter in your classroom tomorrow morning. As Headmistress of Hogwarts, I am insisting that you assist young Mister Potter in tutoring so he can take his N.E.W.T’s in Potions.”  
  
   “What!?” Severus stood up from his desk.  
  
   “You think your lives are so different? I am going to give you two the opportunity of a lifetime to get to know one another,” the elderly witch mused. “Eight a.m sharp, Severus. If you don’t show, I will reconsider your position as Potions master.”  
  
   Snape felt his knuckles whiten—which almost seemed impossible with his pale complexion.   
  
   “Have a good night, Severus. Oh, and you might want to send Fawkes to Potter, letting him know of the arrangement as soon as possible,” she smiled. “You should know that cats have very sharp claws when they come out.”  
  
   When the door closed, Severus fell into his seat, ready to throw a thousand hexes at anyone else who wandered into his office tonight. She was barking mad!   
   He ran his fingers against his forehead for a moment, brushing the hair from his face. This was ridiculous. Potter was nothing like his mother! He refused to believe it. And yet, the thought of the boy still made him feel strange and confused inside.   
   Seeing him with all that attention tonight had made him angry. How the boy could waste his life so much with his celebrity status was beyond him. He was a powerful wizard and he did have the potential to be intelligent with his magic. And yet he didn’t do anything because he let others distract him so much!  
   If Potter would concentrate for just a moment then maybe he’d be able to brew something right. Instead, he allowed his stupid friends to persuade him into doing things wrong and never got any good results. He knew the boy could do well in Potions class, but making _him_ , of all people, tutor him?   
   Snape mentally groaned, venting a sigh.  
   There was sudden movement and Fawkes was on his desk, pushing a piece of parchment with his beak towards him before picking up the quill.  
   He leant back up, the bird looking at him eagerly. “Fine,” he muttered, picking up the quill and writing the note for Potter. “In the morning, deliver this to his common-room door. Potter won’t even have time for breakfast,” he muttered. And nor would he.


	9. Potions.

Chapter Nine: Potions.  
  
   Harry was woken up by Hermione running up and entering the boy’s dormitories. Immediately, when he heard the voice of a girl, he slapped his glasses on. It was Ron and the others who seemed to cover themselves up. Harry just sat up, thankful that it was nothing bad. Plus, he was wearing an oversized T-shirt anyway.  
   “Hermione, what are you doing? This is the boy’s dorm,” he said, rubbing his eyes a little beneath his glasses so she’d come into better focus.   
  
   “Fawkes is downstairs waiting for you. He’s got a letter. He wouldn’t let me touch it, which was—strange—but I was up early and it seems important…” said the girl, her hair messy and un-brushed. She’d been up early getting ready for all of her classes.   
   She looked at all the closed windows, now realising why Fawkes had come in through the main one downstairs. “Harry, you should really have at least one of these open. Don’t you let Spells out?”    
  
   “She’s clever enough to open the bar. Besides, it’s just a letter,” Harry muttered, checking the time. He still had thirty minutes before he’d even need to get up. Breakfast wasn’t until an hour away and classes didn’t start until after that.   
  
   “Harry Potter,” said the girl sternly, the other boys in the room still stiff, not one of them moving from their covered up position.   
  
   Harry moaned but he pushed the sheets off, following her downstairs—Spells flapping after him. Everyone else seemed to relax at that, going back to their regular sleeping positions as they still had time before class.   
   Walking down the stairs, he saw Fawkes sitting there, perched on the table and Spells flew out the window for a stretch. Surprisingly, Ginny was down here, too. The both of them must have gotten up at the same time.    
   Giving her a polite hello, he smiled when their eyes met and he quickly turned to Fawkes, taking the letter from his leg and opening it. His face paled and Hermione seemed to notice it, asking what it was.  
   “I… Professor Snape says that I have to meet him in his classroom before breakfast. Apparently he’s going to tutor me so I can catch up in Potions classes.”   
   What the hell did McGonagall tell him!? He felt an awful dread settle in his stomach.  
  
   “Isn’t that what you wanted, Harry?” said Hermione, looking confused to his pale face. She knew last night things hadn’t gone well but clearly McGonagall had smoothed things over with Professor Snape.   
  
   Harry looked to the girl. “You think he’s doing this out of the kindness of his black heart?” he asked, giving an aggravated look. “This is all McGonagall’s doing, I know it. He’s going to make my life a living Hell, Hermione!”   
   As Fawkes bit him hard, he flinched, pulling his hand back. “Ow, that hurt, Fawkes,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing towards the bird. Clearly he didn’t like it when his master was insulted or spoken badly of. Wow, he really _was_ loyal to Snape.  
  
   Hermione snickered a little. “Harry, you’ve been wanting to talk to Professor Snape about his memories since he woke up, well… this is your chance,” she urged. “Plus, if you want to be an Auror, you have to take this opportunity. Snape’s not going to give you another one and I doubt McGonagall will be able to persuade him again. Just go.”   
  
   Looking down at Fawkes, Harry nodded gently. It wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter anyway. Hermione was right, on both counts. He needed this class to be an Auror and he did want to talk to Snape about his memories. Well, he _had_ wanted to until last night.   
   He thought things had been going well between the two of them. Well, as well as things could get with Snape. Sending him an owl as a thanks and a birthday present had made Harry feel things in his stomach he’d never really felt before, and it had been nice. But now he was just angry at the professor. He was sure Snape felt the same way about him, too. Especially this early in the morning.   
  
   “You better have some breakfast before you go, Harry,” said Ginny.  
  
   Harry wondered how long this lesson was going to take. He figured he’d still have to go to his normal classes and they’d have to work out a proper schedule, but today he would probably need all the food he could get.  
   As Ginny handed him a muffin, he took it, but he didn’t eat it. He knew he’d get crumbs on him and Snape would probably say something about it. He’d save it until after he was out. He didn’t want to make this day any more of a hassle.  
   He figured he should have given Snape’s book back but now he was uncertain. That book could be his life saver right now. Although, if Snape found out he was using it, he was pretty sure he’d kick him out.   
   The walk to the dungeons was quiet, most students still in bed. It felt like the sun hadn’t even risen yet but he could see the grounds were covered in a very yellow morning glow. He tried not to dawdle, though, as he knew he’d get into trouble. He was sure Snape was already in a grouchy mood for having to teach this early and skip breakfast. Damn McGonagall.   
   Entering the classroom, he saw Professor Snape sitting at the front of the class with a very displeased facial. He felt his head lowering, his shoulders coming up. Fawkes gave a very happy chirp at the sight of Snape.  
  
   Seeing the Gryffindor, Snape kept his aggravation at its lowest form. Just like Harry, he knew all too well that if they didn’t behave, McGonagall would make them—whatever means necessary. The Tabby has a mean streak to her.  
   He stood up, moving down the steps at the front of the class. “Don’t think this excuses anything, Potter,” he sneered. “You will take these classes until you have caught up with what you missed last year while you were being the world’s hero,” he muttered.  
  
   Harry just watched the professor, Fawkes still on his shoulder. “What about Ron? He wants to be an Auror, too, so he’ll have to take the class as well, won’t he?”  
  
   Snape folded his arms. “I suppose all of the attention from the first years has made you blind to your friends,” he mused, Harry just looking at him, confused.   
   “Miss Granger has informed the Headmistress (who had informed him) that she will be tutoring Weasley herself,” he said almost pleasurably. It meant he didn’t have to deal with Weasley and it meant Harry would be upset over it. Right now, that was rather satisfying in his bad mood.  
  
   Sure enough, Harry felt a pang of hurt in his chest. This was unbelievable! Why wouldn’t Hermione tell him about this!? He knew Ron had to take the class as well, but getting Hermione to catch him up? Why wouldn’t she catch him up as well!?  
   He gritted his teeth angrily as a smirk went across the professor’s lips. He tried not to let it get to him and he would talk to Hermione later on. Letting Snape win wasn’t going to happen.  
  
   “Don’t be upset, Potter,” said Snape, taking a few more steps closer, “I am sure Miss Granger has her reasons for not telling you.”  
  
   Harry’s eyes narrowed darkly. “Can we just get this over and done with?” he snapped moodily.   
  
   Snape extended his arm for Fawkes and the phoenix spread his fiery wings to fly to him. “You may head back to my office,” he informed, but the phoenix didn’t budge. Instead, he stayed perched on his arm.   
  
   Harry smirked as the bird disobeyed.   
  
   “Shut it, Potter, or you’ll earn yourself a detention and more points withdrawn,” snapped the Potions master. Fawkes flew over to the desk and perched there, obviously wanting to stay. He ignored the bird and turned back around, muttering to himself.  
   “I am assuming you have your books with you?”   
  
   “What much would a book do if all the instructions are wrong, anyway?” asked Harry, speaking of Snape’s old book, nearly all of the pages having improvements written down on them. That book had been a better teacher than Snape—and that didn’t even make sense!    
  
   Snape folded his arms again, giving another look of disapproval. “Basic instructions are better than none, you silly boy,” he spat, going to the cupboard and getting one of the spare ones out. He threw it onto the desk before Harry and ordered him to sit. He wasn’t even going to put instructions on the board. Potter could suffer through his learning here.  
  
   Harry did as he was told, sitting down and opening the book to the potion told. “Hate Potion?” he asked, looking up at the professor who was sitting at his desk once more.   
  
   Snape just raised a brow in an answer, returning to his notes he was working on.  
  
   “Hang on, Professor…” Harry started, looking back up, “am I going to be brewing this today?” He looked around the room, realising there was nothing set up. Well, for him anyway. There were other things in the room, but they looked like they were for other classes.   
  
   “You will not be having a practical day today, Potter, you will be studying in utter silence,” Snape noted, seeing the boy look back at the book before looking up. “Anything else you would like to add so you don’t interrupt me further?”   
  
   Harry just looked at the professor, feeling angry again. He hated this. He wanted to scream and yell at him, ask him why he was being like this! A few months ago he was happy to be somewhat nice to him and now he was just being an arse!  
   He wanted to ask about Fawkes and Spells. He wanted to ask about his mother. He wanted to ask about Snape’s past, about his family and his old friends. He wanted the professor to just look at him nicely rather than like he was the scum of the earth!   
   Instead, Harry just returned his eyes to the book, reading about the potion and learning about the ingredients. The silence was actually quite nice. It was different from the crowds that surrounded him and the whispers and giggles that followed him through the corridors.  
  
   Glancing up at the boy, Snape watched him closely as he read through the book, writing down notes with his ink and quill. Surprisingly, he noticed that Potter was actually reading quite intently, but he could tell he was angry. So what?   
   He looked around the room as it was empty, just the two of them, and he felt… different. Could Harry be more like his mother than he realised? Could Harry pull it off? Leaning Potions? He hadn’t a clue, but he was stuck in the situation with the young wizard and he had no way out of it. Unless Harry proved to be completely stupid in learning.   
   Realising he was staring at the boy, he quickly looked back at his notes, seeing he’d dropped ink onto the page. Damnit. Fawkes gave a chirp that sounded much like laughter and he eyed the bird, hushing him.   
   The next noise, however, he wasn’t expecting, Harry’s eyes looking up at him as his stomach growled. He’d missed breakfast because of this. And although he knew he had to get up early and skip it, he should have at least gotten something from one of the elves. He was in a pissy mood, though, so he’d skipped it entirely, thinking that getting the lesson over and done with as soon as possible would mean he could reach the Great Hall in time before the feast finished.   
  
   A smirk creased Harry’s lips as he looked at the professor. Good, he was suffering, but somehow that actually didn’t satisfy Harry as much as he thought it might. He remembered he had a muffin in his pocket wrapped up in some baking paper and he figured it wouldn’t be too bad if he gave it away. Besides, with him being so angry, he wasn’t that hungry at all.  
   “Sir, if you’re hungry, Ginny made me a muffin and I haven’t eaten it yet.” He got the wrapped up muffin out and put it in front of him.   
  
   Looking at the boy, Snape raised a sceptical brow. So that girl was still hanging off him? Like he’d want anything from Potter. His stomach protested, though.  
   “Neither of us had time for breakfast, Potter, and you’re much too scrawny. Keep it.”   
  
   Harry laughed a little, but shrugged. “I’m used to not eating, Professor,” he smiled. He stood up and walked up to the desk, Fawkes watching him, and he put the muffin onto the table.  
  
   Watching Potter, Snape frowned at the mention of him being used to not eating. The Dursleys had really starved him that much? Well, he knew the boy was thin for his age and he’d always be short for his age as well, but he wasn’t expecting a comment like that.  
   He remembered his own childhood and his own abusive father. His mother had been just as neglectful and cruel but at least she’s let him use magic and allowed him to come to Hogwarts.   
   “All the more reason for you to keep it,” he finally said, giving the boy a look to see just how thin he was. He was much older than Potter and he could hold off the hunger. Harry, on the other hand, was a teenager that most likely had an appetite. Besides, he had more meat on him than Harry did. He was a grown wizard.   
  
   Fawkes, who was sitting between the two, grabbed the paper and nudged it towards Snape, his stomach making another hungry grumble. Harry just smirked.  
  
   As the bird put it in front of him, Snape put his quill down, groaning. “Don’t think I owe you anything for this, Potter,” he said, picking up the muffin.   
   Unwrapping it, he gave it a sceptical look before realising there was a certain scent about it. “Miss Weasley made this for you, did she…?” he asked, raising a brow and looking at Harry, who seemed to be giving him a confused look.   
  
   “Does that matter, Professor…?” Harry asked. “I’m sure she won’t mind that I gave it to you. I assure you, it doesn’t contain girl’s germs.”  
  
   Snape put the muffin down, folding his arms onto the desk. “You’re certain of that, are you?” he said in an unimpressed tone.   
  
   Harry gave the professor a curious look. “Excuse me, sir…? I don’t understand.”  
  
   Snape stood up, taking the muffin into his hand. He took the boy’s hand and put it back into it. “You want to learn about potions, Mister Potter, you were taught these with Slughorn. Amuse me. Smell it.”   
  
   Harry just looked at the choc-chip muffin in his hand. He raised it and took in a small whiff. It smelled like a muffin, with chocolate in it—besides the smell of the Potions classroom he was standing in.   
   “It smells like a muffin, sir…” he said awkwardly, like he was meant to smell someone else. “Is… there something I’m missing here?”   
  
   Picking up the book that was on Harry’s desk, he flicked through the pages and held it up. “Unless you’re trying to make me fall in love with you, which believe me, would be quite difficult even with a potion,” he drawled, “Miss Weasley has placed a cousin potion to Amortentia into this,” he finished, slapping the book back down to the desk.   
  
   Harry’s eyes widened, looking at the muffin and the book. What!? Ginny had given him a… a love potion!? Was this the first time!? How long had she been doing this to him!?   
   His face went red at the thought. What if she’d been doing this since the start of their relationship? What if every drink or piece of food she’d given him was laced with the stuff? He never noticed! But… he remembered when Ron had eaten the chocolates that were meant for him from Romilda and instantly became infatuated with her. Harry hadn’t with Ginny.   
   “You’re wrong,” he said, Snape’s eyes turning dark. “If she’s been making potions for me, then why didn’t I get like Ron did? I didn’t become obsessed with her… I… came to like her over time,” he explained, feeling very awkward talking to Snape about his relationship with Ginny.   
  
   Having known about the Weasley boy after he’d drank the poison Slughorn had accidentally given him (that had been planted for Dumbledore), Snape had been told about the state of the boy when he’d eaten those laced chocolates. However, Ronald had eaten basically the whole lot in one big go. He imagined Ginerva Weasley had been doing this quite subtly.   
   “Potter, it may have escaped your mind, but you happen to be one of the strongest wizards there are amongst these students, and certainly at your age.” He picked the muffin back up. “This muffin contains only slight hints of the potion; otherwise the scent of your desires would be much too obvious. Clearly, Miss Weasley has been using subtle hints of the potion, which would have decreased the potion’s speed and aroma. Many of these ‘love’ potions have certain levels of infatuation to them, Amortentia is just the strongest. This also explains why I had missing phials. Figured it would have revolved around you,” he murmured in annoyance.  
  
   Harry didn’t know what to say. This whole time Ginny was making him slowly love her through potions? It explained last night, though, why he had thought of her before falling asleep. She’d given him that drink. She must have subtly put it into the drink before giving it to him.  
   He’d often questioned his feelings for Ginny but figured it was just him worrying. He’d always seen her as a little sister! And then all of a sudden he was looking at her in a whole different way. He thought it was just his hormones going crazy and the fact that he sucked when it came to relationships. But this…? He didn’t know what to do or say…   
  
   Seeing the boy’s confusion, Severus put the muffin back down. “I suggest you discard of this. Unless you wish to take it back to her as evidence?”  
  
   Harry looked up, not knowing how to handle this. Voldemort and Horcruxes, he could deal with. Ginny? One of his most trusted friends and Ron’s sister!?   
   “I don’t understand… I broke up with her before the holidays, Professor,” he confessed, falling lazily to his seat. “I suppose she ran out of the potion?” he asked, as if looking for some kind of guidance.   
  
   “I have noticed that some of my ingredients have been taken previously,” explained Snape, his hands going together. “The potion would have worn off over the holidays if she had not had a backup supply of it. I had noticed this morning that things had been moved in the supply closet, but other professors are allowed to collect what they need from time to time without me hounding them.” He had a feeling she may not have gotten them from him all the time, though, not when her brother’s—or one brother now—had been running a prank store.  
  
   Looking at the muffin, Harry just stared at it. He couldn’t believe Ginny would do something like this. He knew she had a crush on him, but this? This was tricking him! This was messing with his life! And she’d betrayed his trust. He’d done so much for her, and in return, she’d done so much for him as well. But tricking him into loving her? It wasn’t even _real_ love!  
  
   “Potter, the potion doesn’t create actual love, just a strong obsession,” said the Potions master very clearly as Harry seemed to be torn about the whole thing. This was the worst kind of topic he could be talking about right now. He didn’t know what love was—or no one thought he did, anyway. He loved Lily Evans and had never stopped, but he was a grown man now. He didn’t talk about sentimental things like that! And he certainly never dealt with it well, or knew how to help anyone else who was in love.  
   He did feel sorry for Harry. How to be comforting, though? He lacked any kind of knowledge about that. He wasn’t known for his soft nature, he was a cold, bitter Slytherin. He didn’t know _how_ to comfort someone, especially Harry Potter of all people.   
  
   As a flapping noise was heard, Fawkes landed on the desk Harry was sitting at, nibbling on his fingers to show a sign of comfort. Harry just gave a sad smile, patting the bird.   
   He knew it was a long shot but he looked up to the professor who was watching him silently. “May I be excused, sir?” he asked. He wasn’t going to talk to Ginny right away, he just wanted some time to himself before he had to go to class for the first time this year. He didn’t know what he would do if he saw Ginny right now. He was very upset.   
  
   Severus nodded, but only because he felt sorry for Potter’s heart being toyed with and he didn’t want to have to deal with him moping in his classroom.   
   If this had happened to Harry a year ago, he would have probably laughed and made the boy stay through the whole lesson to suffer. However, things had changed and Potter _had_ saved his life. The nicest thing he could do was let him go.   
   As Harry picked up his things, he left silently and Severus just watched the boy leave without another word. Fawkes made a soft cry and regained the professor’s attention. Class would be starting soon, and he really needed to get something into his stomach. His first class was first-years, and he really didn’t need them giggling over something as stupid as him being hungry.  
  
*****  
   Harry walked out of the dungeons and headed outside into the courtyard. People were up and about now but he didn’t want to go into the Great Hall—even if he was hungry. Instead, he sat outside by himself, allowing the other students to whisper and talk about him.  
   He tried to ignore it the best he could and it was actually a lot easier than he thought it would be—if only because his mind was so focused on other things.  
   How could Ginny do this to him? Had any of his feelings been real, then? He didn’t know. He’d have to ask her about it… Then again, he knew it would ruin everything they’d had. Not to mention Ron. Even if he was Ron’s best friend, he would always go family before him. Everyone would.   
   Looking down, he felt completely isolated. Would anyone even believe him? Maybe it was better to just go along with it and just never accept anything from Ginny again. He didn’t know…   
   Of course, his trust in the girl was gone, but… he’d known Ginny since the first time he’d gone to the Burrow. Making a fuss out of it would mean potentially losing all of that. Maybe it would just be better if he kept his mouth shut. At least he could still have his friends that way.   
   It was going to be time for class soon and for the first time in his life, Harry felt like skipping it. He wouldn’t, but only because this was his final year and he needed all the marks he could get. Snape was still tutoring him (even if being forced from McGonagall), so he could take Potions and get his dream career. He wasn’t going to ruin that.   
   He stayed there for what seemed like a long time in silence, just thinking about everything and what he was going to do. He just didn’t think anything like this would have happened, especially from Ginny! She was always such a sweet girl, but he also knew that she did have a mean streak in her. She wasn’t always nice. He didn’t mean that in a bad way, he just knew she was a good fighter and could stand up for herself and what she believed in. She had strong opinions.    
   It made sense now; why she dated that other guy she didn’t even like just to get him jealous. And it had worked because she had been feeding him love potions. How did she even get it? How did she know about it? Harry didn’t learn about love potions until his sixth year in school… He wondered if her older brother’s had helped her out about it.  
   Of course, Fred and George Weasley never would have given her love potions from their store if they knew she was going to use them on him. No, she must have found out by another friend. Maybe in a higher year? He didn’t know…  
   He mentally shook his head, venting a soft sigh when suddenly his thoughts were disturbed, a plate of bacon and eggs appearing in front of him.   
   Looking up, Harry was surprised to see Professor Snape before him.   
  
   “You need to eat something before class, Potter,” said Snape. He’d been walking to the Great Hall for breakfast himself when he’d seen Harry sitting out here by himself. Clearly the boy had no intention of going inside and eating anything, which meant he’d have nothing in his stomach for classes. In turn, his concentration would be low. Simple logic.  
  
   Smelling the food, there was no denying that Harry was hungry now. He looked up and took the plate. “Thank you, Professor…” he said, though his face still down. He picked up a piece of bacon with his fingers.  
  
   Putting his hand into his pocket, Severus retrieved a knife and fork, handing them to Harry. “Your concentration needs to be at its peak this year, Potter. If you wish to pass your N.E.W.T’s then the least advice I can give you is to eat breakfast so you can concentrate in lessons, and I’d prefer you didn’t waste my time in teaching you just so you fail.”  He made the last few words very evident.  
  
   Harry settled the plate into his lap, taking a bite into the bacon. He was surprised, though, to see Snape here. Especially after last night and this morning. He didn’t know what had happened between the two of them, they seemed to be getting off quite well just before the holidays and then it was like Snape had tried being mean on purpose.   
   He supposed he should be thankful the professor was here now, and having told him about the potion in his food. If it weren’t for Snape, he’d probably be falling in ‘love’ with Ginny again.  
   He could still hear the kids around whispering and he felt his shoulders go tight. “I wish they’d stop,” he murmured, looking at the plate of food in front of him. “I hate them talking about me like they know me. If they knew half the things I’d seen and done… they would never want to be like me.”   
  
   Severus looked down, confused for a moment. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, so instead he just stood there in utter silence. He felt like telling him that that was his own fault, but he decided it best not to. He was a Slytherin and could choose his battles carefully. This was one he didn’t care for or wish to make mountains out of.  
  
   Shaking his head, Harry brushed a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t want to be a celebrity, Professor,” he said, still looking at his plate. “I hate it. I hate walking outside to others giggling about me and whispering to each other. I hate all the eyes on me. I never asked for this… I never _wanted_ this.  
   “I didn’t know any of this existed until I came here to Hogwarts. And as much as I love it here, sometimes I just want to be in the cupboard back at the Dursleys,” he mumbled. “Sure, they didn’t treat me nicely, but at least everything they said, they said it to my face. They were at least honest.”  
  
   Snape’s brows furrowed as Harry mentioned something about being in a cupboard. His aunt and uncle kept him in a cupboard!? Even his own parents weren’t that cruel. Neglectful and abusive, yes, but… at least he still had a bedroom.   
   He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know this had happened to Harry. He’d been in his mind through the Occlumency lessons, but most of the things he’d seen were fresh memories back then. He didn’t see the Dursleys at all. Not that he wished to. He knew how Petunia was through Lily. Horrid woman.    
  
   “I thought that for once I had honest people around me here. Dumbledore ended up keeping things from me… I thought you were someone horrible and always on Voldemort’s side… and now Ginny has been putting potions in my food. I feel the only honest people around me were the Dursleys.” Even Ron and Hermione had kept the tutoring lessons secret from him.   
  
   Giving a mental scowl, Snape bent down to his knee so he was level with Harry, the boy’s vibrant green eyes looking at him as his robes shadowed him. “Potter, I had to lie to you. I had to appear cruel to you. You understand that I would have done anything to protect you,” he said as gently as he could, though he knew it was still coming out harshly and more seething than anything else.  
  
   “For my mother,” snapped Harry. “You didn’t like me. I reminded you too much of James, remember?”   
  
   Snape rolled his eyes, giving the boy a dark look. “Much to my regret, your mother is dead, Potter. I could have walked away any time I wanted to. So Dumbledore made it clear that I owed the Potter family, but I could have done far worse to you than I had. I didn’t _hate_ you, Harry, I may have disliked the way you acted, but I never _hated_ you—as much as that displeases you to hear.”   
  
   At the sound of his first name, Harry looked up once more, meeting those dark eyes. From here, he could see the darkest glints of brown piercing the blackness.   
   “That doesn’t displease me, Professor…” he said softly and almost nervously, seeming to surprise the wizard in his dark robes. “I never wanted to hate you. And after knowing what you’ve done for me… it’s hard to try and hate you. I know you’ve done bad things and anyone may find it easy to hate you, but I don’t think that way.”   
  
   Feeling awkward, Severus stood back up. “Eat, Potter. Class will start soon.”  
  
   “You’re leaving?” Harry asked, feeling his cheeks flush as he realised he sounded more disappointed than he realised. He looked down at his plate.   
  
   Seeing the blush, Severus only felt more awkward about the whole thing. If he were Harry’s age, he may have done the same thing. Instead, he cleared his throat, putting his hands behind his back. Why he felt awkward, he wasn’t entirely sure, but seeing Harry blush before him made something in his stomach tingle. Something good. Something he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time.   
   “I have classes to prepare for, Potter,” he informed. He put a hand to the young wizard’s shoulder, though pulling it back when he felt another surge from the boy. He stared at him before looking back at his hand.   
  
   “I’m sorry,” Harry exclaimed, eyes peering up through his glasses. “I… I didn’t mean to do that.” Once more, Harry’s cheeks were burning a rich shade of red.  
  
   What exactly _was_ ‘that’!? Snape gave the boy a curious look before lowering his hand. “I will see you in your next tutoring lesson. Tomorrow afternoon, before dinner.”   
  
   As the professor turned away, Harry touched his shoulder, feeling the static of magic dance off him. He didn’t know what it was exactly, but it had felt good. Should it feel good? He didn’t know, but he didn’t mind that it did feel good.  
   Quickly shoving the food into his mouth, he dropped the plate and ran after the professor, catching up to him.   
   “Professor, wait,” he called out, Snape stopping in his tracks and turning over his shoulder. “I never thanked you properly,” he said, looking into those dark eyes. “I know I saved your life, but I only did that once. You put your life in constant danger to protect me, and even the teachers here thought ugly of you… And I’m sorry I had to put you through that. I’m sorry that I remind you of my father so much. I wish I didn’t, but… I can’t help being who I am.  
   “And then you let me keep Fawkes over the holidays. I know you needed him back, but that didn’t mean you had to buy me a new owl. You could have just taken Fawkes, and I would have been okay with that, but you let me keep Spells. Even more, you _purchased_ a new owl, just for that. You could have borrowed someone else’s, or… Hermione said you’d owned a raven once, you could have used him. But you didn’t… You let me keep her.”    
  
   Severus just stared at the boy like he was mad. He wasn’t expecting this at all. He knew Harry wasn’t like James all the time, and his perspective of Harry’s personality was clearly warped because of seeing him as James before. But that’s not what he saw now. Everything was very much Lily.  
   Harry had a side that no one seemed to know (except his friends most likely). Everyone saw the Gryffindor Golden Boy when they looked at him, heard of him and spoke of him. A hero that had wanted to be in the spotlight, but Severus was clearly seeing something different now.   
   Harry didn’t want fame. He didn’t want a crowd in front of him, and things all seemed to suddenly fit into place. Lily and Dumbledore’s words about protecting Harry seemed relevant now.   
   The fact that this whole school year was going to be tedious for the boy, people wanting his attention, and who knew how many students would try and give him love potions? Slughorn was daft when it came to protecting much of anything, and that’s how he knew the Weasley girl had gotten supplies in the first place, and learnt how to formulate the potion—or so he suspected.   
   Severus knew what it felt like to try and duck and sneak his way around on the grounds of Hogwarts. He’d been a severe target for James, Sirius and Peter (not so much Lupin) when he was in school. In the corridors, even in the bloody bathrooms! It was only when he started defending himself that he wasn’t so afraid anymore. That and it felt satisfying to hex the little bastards.   
   He’d spent days studying spells and potions to make horrible things happen to them. In the end it had worked, but by then he’d turned much darker than he thought he’d turn. And by then, Lily had left him. Was it really worth it in the end? To lose the one he loved?   
   Snape didn’t know what to say. He was usually quick in thought process, usually had something witty and sarcastic sitting on the edge of his tongue, ready to come out. But Harry was sincerely thanking him for what he’d done. He wasn’t used to any kind of praise. Especially from Potter.  
   He’d become bitter and cold over the years because of what had happened to him both at home and at Hogwarts. He’d learnt to hate at a young age, from his mother and father, to James and his friends, and from the Dark Lord. It felt like he didn’t have much of a choice but to have walls around him. And that’s what he’d done. Closed himself off.  
   Only Dumbledore had been the one to see him in a moment (moments, really) of weakness. But considering that Harry had seen his memories, he supposed the boy had seen how distraught he’d been at the loss of Lily as well. Not to mention his past in school.   
   Looking at the boy’s eyes, he watched as they seemed almost desperate for some kind of approval. Had life really been that bad for him at the Dursleys? He knew Petunia was a rotten person, he’d known that since childhood—a Muggle calling Lily a freak because she was special and possessed powers that she never could. Why would Petunia care for Harry? He was a wizard. The thing she hated the most. Or was just jealous of.   
   Clearing his throat, Severus merely shrugged. “The owl seemed a necessity. You cannot receive or send mail without one, and it would be quite bothersome to borrow another student’s repeatedly. As for my raven, he is no longer with us,” he made clear.   
  
   Harry looked down, giving a nod. “Sorry to hear,” he said, knowing how hard it had been to see Hedwig struck by the killing curse.   
  
   “No matter, Potter, Fawkes seems more than capable of filling the role of an owl or raven,” Snape stated.   
   As Harry nodded once more, Severus looked down into those haunted green eyes. Harry really had been through a lot, and he figured his snarky attitude probably wasn’t aiding the boy in getting over things.   
   He’d been cruel on purpose to Potter because he had to be. The Dark Lord would have known if he wasn’t so cruel. But part of him had disliked Harry because of James. He was a constant reminder that Lily was never his and that she’d chosen James over him, even with everything that man had done to the both of them. In the end, part of him had been utterly satisfied to torment Harry, and he saw no reason to regret it. Harry had gotten himself into trouble, why feel bad about punishing him for being an idiot? Not to mention the punishment was a way so Harry would stop getting himself into trouble! He’d just been subtly protecting him.   
   But the boy had saved his life, and he was well aware of everything he’d done for everyone else, including himself. He was brave for his age. Severus didn’t see his own actions as bravery, though. He had been a coward for Lily, and thus turned spy. True, he put his life at risk for Potter, but he owed debts. His actions weren’t heroic. It was just him being regretful and fulfilling the debts he owed to the Potter family and Dumbledore. If anything, a weak way or repenting.   
   “You really do have your mother’s eyes…” he said, his face softening a little as Harry seemed to blush, looking down at his shoes. “Now, I advise you head to class before I start stripping House points.”   
   Severus gave the young man a stern look as Harry looked up at him with a smirk. And he headed back off to the dungeons for his first class.  
  
   Harry grinned as he watched the Potions master walk away, though looking around to see if anyone had noticed his blush. He held his cheeks in his hands for a moment, as if to push it away.   
   Harry had always been a shy boy. He may be brave and sometimes fearless, but he was still shy. Just because you were brave didn’t mean you couldn’t be shy around someone who made you feel… special? He honestly didn’t know what Snape made him feel like, but he enjoyed it.   
   He did as he was told, though, heading to class. He wondered if talking to Hermione about Potions was a bad idea after all. Ron certainly was a handful and he was sure one boy was enough to handle, let alone him not understanding either. Hermione was a brilliant witch, but he was actually looking quite forward to his next meeting with Professor Snape. From the man’s book that was still in his possession, he figured Snape would be the best tutor he could get if he wanted to truly pass Potions at all.


	10. Magic

Chapter Ten: Magic.   
  
   The first day of school had been horrible! Harry had been swarmed by people any time he’d step out into the corridors to go to his following classes, to eat lunch, and as soon as classes had finished.   
   He hadn’t had time to talk to either Ginny or Hermione but he wasn’t sure he wanted to anymore. As much as Ginny had betrayed his trust, he knew she was only doing it because she liked him—as twisted as that sounded. Ginny had been a great friend to him, though, and even though she’d been feeding him love potions, she had never pushed him into anything he—technically—didn’t want to do. Plus, he didn’t want to get on Ron’s bad side again.  
   No, it was better just to avoid the things she gave him. And if she asked, then he would confront her about it but he’d try his best to keep it from Ron. For the sake of them all. He didn’t like being dishonest but he’d rather have his friends right now than making enemies.  
   It wasn’t that Harry wasn’t angry about it. Actually, he was furious! Sometimes the thought of it made his blood boil enough to make accidental magic happen, but he had to control himself. He just didn’t want to cause any more trouble.  
   The war was finally over, Voldemort was finally dead, and all he wanted to do was try and lead a normal life. He didn’t want any more chaos around him, and bringing it up would only cause exactly that. Something his mind just didn’t need right now.   
   Harry was already a medley of emotions right now. He was confused about everything. He was bothered because people wouldn’t leave him alone. He was bothered because people didn’t understand what he’d had to go through to want a _normal_ life. He was angry at Hermione for not telling him about tutoring Ron. He was pissed off at Ginny for causing a drastic change in his life. And he was beyond confused to his feelings towards Professor Snape!  
   He hadn’t been able to get the professor off his mind at all. He found it was getting rather distracting and stopping him from working in classes as well. This was his final year here at Hogwarts! He needed to concentrate, and thinking about Professor Snape wasn’t helping at all!  
   It was bad enough that he had had sexual dreams about the professor, but now he was starting to feel awkward around him in person.   
   He supposed it wasn’t a _bad_ kind of awkward. In fact, it was a nice feeling. Even thinking about Snape made him feel good inside. It made his heart pound hard in his chest and he felt almost nervous around him. Not to mention the thought of seeing Snape made his cheeks flush a hot read.  
   “Oh no…” he whispered to himself as he was walking towards the Great Hall for dinner. He knew _exactly_ what these feelings were! He’d had them with Cho! He… had a bloody _crush_ on the professor!  
   What!? No! That couldn’t be right! He and Snape _hated_ one another! Okay, that was a lie—that had been a lie for quite some time now.   
   He looked around awkwardly, swallowing hard. What if someone found out!? What if someone knew!? Had he been obvious!? With the professor being polite to him, what if people started talking!? Hell, he had enough eyes on him; it was hard to get any private time at all. The only reason why he was alone now was because he went for a bathroom break whilst everyone else headed to the Hall.   
   He felt awful now. Not awful as in sick, just even more confused. Snape would _never_ like him back. This had to be some kind of phase, right? Maybe Ginny was putting something else into his food. Who knew!?  
   He certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone. If anyone ever found out that he had a crush on his Potions professor… they’d laugh! Not to mention probably be disgusted. Snape was a man! A fully grown man!  
   He supposed that didn’t actually matter in the wizarding world, though, did it? Snape was only twenty years older than him, and there was nothing wrong with same sex relationships. But he was born into a Muggle world with his aunt and uncle. And he knew Snape was a half-blood, so he would have grown up with somewhat Muggle customs as well. And there was no way he was into men!  
   Harry frowned to himself, feeling horribly embarrassed about the whole situation. Why now!? Why did he have to feel like this now? So much was going on in his head that he really didn’t need this.   
   Professor Snape would never like a student, especially him! His whole life had been twisted because of him. And that made him feel even worse. No, this definitely had to be some kind of phase.  
   But what if those surges of magic that kept happening _was_ what Hermione had told him about all those months ago? A bond. A connection. That he’d met his magical match. He knew very well that Snape was a powerful wizard—and a very smart one, too.  
   But then… Snape would have noticed as well. And by the looks of things, he was just as confused. He doubted it was that. That meant Snape would have to have some kind of feelings towards him too, and he knew Snape would never. He clearly liked women as he’d fallen in love with Lily.  
   Leaning his hand against the wall, he stood outside for a moment. He could hear the ruckus inside the Great Hall as everyone else was eating dinner. He knew he’d have to go in before someone else found him and possibly got him into trouble (like Filch), so he pushed the doors open as gently as possible and slipped into the Hall.  
   Looking at his feet, he headed towards the Gryffindor table. He couldn’t even bear taking a glance at the High Table, knowing very well that Professor Snape would be up there with the other teachers.   
  
   “’Bout time you showed up, mate,” Ron said with a smile. “Didn’t get trapped in the corridors by more fans, did you?”  
  
   Harry just frowned, rolling his eyes as he sat down and grabbed a plate, putting his own food onto it—as well as getting himself a drink. “Not yet, thank God,” he muttered.  
  
   “Well, hopefully it’ll all blow over soon.” Hermione’s voice was soft and reassuring, giving Harry a smile as she picked up her own fork.   
   Hermione was very busy with school work and she would continue to be so during the whole year. She was taking a lot more classes than she probably should be, but this was Hermione. This, however, hadn’t given her much time to actually talk to her friends during class. She’d been quite bossy in telling them to hush as she was trying to concentrate.  
   “How was your lesson this morning with Professor Snape?” she asked, Harry seeming to go stiff. That bad? She gave a frown. “Sorry, Harry… I was going to offer I help. I’m helping with Ron so he can catch up, but then I saw the letter you got this morning… so I thought that things had already been settled.”  
  
   Harry actually felt a lot better at hearing that, feeling himself relax a little. “It’s fine,” he said, Ron looking at him like he was a mad man. He felt himself going red, though, looking back at his plate of chicken nibbles.   
  
   “I can’t believe you have to have lessons with Snape,” Ginny muttered. “Surely there’s a way you can get out of it, right?”  
  
   As the girl beside him spoke, Harry felt himself tense. At least Snape hadn’t put a love potion into his food! It made him angry that others were still badmouthing the professor. After all he’d done. Sure, he wasn’t nice, but Snape was right. If Voldemort had found out about it—which he was sure Malfoy would have told—then Snape’s position as a spy would have been exposed. Or at least caused suspicion.   
   “It’s not even that bad,” he said, coming off a lot angrier than he realised. Ron, Hermione and Ginny just looked at him, and he sighed. “I’d rather the silence in the dungeons than the stupid people in the corridors that won’t leave me alone.”   
  
   All four of them stayed silent for a moment but it was Ron who broke the silence. “So, Ginny, are you gunna try out for Quidditch this year?” he asked his sister. Considering his and Harry’s work schedule this final year, neither of them would be playing. He’d been able to get his Firebolt back to him once he’d lost it in the battle at Little Whinging, though, which was at least something.    
  
   “Definitely,” said the girl. “It’s a shame you two can’t play this year. I know it’s going to be great.”  
  
   “We’ll all still be there to watch you, Ginny,” Hermione promised, wearing a smile. “Plus, with everything that’s gone on the last year, I think Quidditch will be great for the school. Something to lighten up the mood.”   
  
   “I think Harry does that already,” Ron snorted.  
  
   Harry smirked a little. “You guys should be getting just as much attention as I am. Honestly, if it weren’t for you… I probably would have died…”  
  
   “Don’t worry, Harry, we’re getting loads of attention, too,” Ron laughed. “I noticed some girls whispering when I walked past them this morning.” Hermione seemed horrified. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t been noticing the blokes doing it to you.”   
  
   “Of course not! I don’t pay any attention to that,” Hermione said in almost horror, her cheeks going rosy.  
  
   Ron just laughed. “Yeah, right,” he muttered with a smirk before looking back at Harry. “C’mon, Harry, soon enough it’ll be over. This is our last year here… we gotta make the most of it, I reckon.”   
  
   That was true. Harry gave a smile, looking up. Hogwarts really had been a home to him, and this was why. His friends. They were like his family and had cared for him more than anyone else ever had. And even though he knew this year was going to be tough and tedious with both classes and the people trying to smother him, he couldn’t stand the thought of being away from his friends. His family.   
   Soon enough, dinner was over and the attention of all the students went to McGonagall. Harry was forced to look up to the High Table, and it was hard not to steal a small glance over in Professor Snape’s direction.   
   Much to his embarrassment, their eyes met and Harry instantly looked away, feeling as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. His whole body went hot, his heart pumping and ears ringing.   
   Harry made sure to keep his eyes at the front through the rest of McGonagall’s speech and was happy to get out of there and head back to the common-room with the rest of the Gryffindor’s.   
   Ginny had only offered him something once from her plate all night and he declined it immediately, saying he wasn’t hungry anymore. Unfortunately, it made him have to stop eating when he was still actually quite famished.   
   It wasn’t until most of the students left that Hermione asked if that was his stomach that had made a noise. He looked up to the girl, it just being them in the main room now.   
  
   “I thought you said you weren’t hungry, Harry. Why didn’t you keep eating?” Hermione asked. She immediately took out a bag of crisps from her bag and handed them to him.   
  
   Taking the bag, Harry didn’t hesitate to open them and dig in. He did however, realise that Hermione wanted information.   
   “I wasn’t hungry then,” he lied, giving a shrug. It didn’t seem to satisfy the witch, though. He knew there wasn’t really any other way out of it. They’d been friends for eight years now. Hermione knew when something was wrong.  
   “I couldn’t eat in the Great Hall because Ginny offered me food… and I didn’t want any, so I had to lie and say I wasn’t hungry,” he explained.  
  
   “Why didn’t you just take some from her? I know you’re not dating anymore but that doesn’t mean you can’t be friends,” the girl said sceptically.   
  
   Harry’s insides squirmed a little bit at the truth, looking at Hermione. “I just… don’t want her thinking I’m leading her on or anything, that’s all.”  
  
   The sceptical look didn’t disappear from Hermione’s face. “I hardly think taking some food from her plate is leading her on. What’s wrong, Harry? You’ve seemed distracted all day… You know you can tell me anything. You’re my best friend and… look at all the things we’ve been through.”  
   She sighed gently as Harry seemed to deflate. “Look, if this has anything to do with all those people out there wanting to see and talk to you… it will die down. It’s just fresh still. I know it’s got to be distracting, but this is our final year. You really need to be concentrating the best you can.”  
  
   That seemed almost impossible with everything going on! But Harry nodded nonetheless. “I know. It’s just hard…” he admitted.  
  
   “I know it is,” Hermione said sympathetically. “I’m serious. I was going to talk to you about Potions today, but then when the later came… well, I didn’t want you being upset. I knew you’d find out either way, with Ron needing to catch up as well, but, I just didn’t want to put more pressure on you.”  
  
   “It’s fine, Hermione. Honestly,” Harry said with a small smile. “Lessons with Snape aren’t even that bad anymore. I mean… it’s a bit strange being there by myself, I probably would have felt more comfortable with Ron there, but… I think that would have earned the both of us detentions we don’t need.”   
  
   Hermione laughed a little. That was true. “I suppose the lessons will allow you and Professor Snape some private time without anyone else bothering you.”  
  
   Harry felt himself go rigid, looking at Hermione in shock. “What…?” he asked, his chest thrumming. She couldn’t possibly know that he had a crush on the Potions master.   
  
   “Well, didn’t you want to ask about your mother?” Hermione asked as if it were obvious. “Plus, he did give you an owl. You should really thank him for that.”   
  
   Harry felt his heartbeat slow back down, thankfully. “Oh, yeah… Yeah, I already thanked him. He just said it was a ‘necessity’ for school and mail,” he mimicked, giving a short laugh.   
  
   Hermione smiled, though looking back down. “Harry… what exactly are your feelings towards Professor Snape?” she asked, watching him closely. Harry turned away though, looking down.   
   Immediately, she saw that he was trying to hide a blush, picking up the bag of chips and playing with it. She knew immediately that Harry had formed some kind of close and private feelings over the wizard.  
   “I know you feel bad about Snape putting his life on the line for you, and I know you feel like you owe him. It’s why you stayed and waited for him to wake up in the hospital wing. But… I’ve seen you two together. This morning. I saw the way you looked at him… He’s a professor, Harry.”   
  
   “I know!” Harry hissed, his face red and flustered. He felt awful now, horribly embarrassed and wrong for even starting to like Snape. He didn’t even know how it had happened! Sure, he felt bad for anyone dying for him, and he saved Snape, and Snape had protected him, but that didn’t create a means for him to start crushing on the guy!   
   “I don’t… know what I feel, Hermione,” he sighed. “It’s weird… I hated him for all my life and then I find out about what he’s been doing and I just… I don’t know.”   
  
   Hermione gave her friend a look of concern. “It was Snape you were talking about when you asked about sparks, wasn’t it?”  
  
   Harry didn’t say anything; he just rubbed his arm as they sat together, the fire beside them in the common-room.   
  
   “Is this why you broke up with Ginny?”  
  
   “No,” said Harry, although happy that the conversation wasn’t on Snape anymore. “I never really… felt like my feelings towards Ginny were real. I mean, I know it seemed like they were and I did like her, but… it wasn’t real. She’s been putting love potions into my food.”  
  
   Hermione’s eyes went wide. “What!?” she asked, putting her hand to her mouth. “Who told you that!? When did you find this out? Are you sure that’s true?”   
  
   The questions all came out at once, and Harry just looked at his best friend who seemed to go quiet as she realised she was overwhelming him.   
   “The muffin she gave me… I didn’t eat it, well, I would have, but then when I was in class I offered it to Snape.” Hermione’s brows arched. “He was hungry, I heard his stomach. I’m used to not eating, Hermione, so I thought I’d give it to him. I didn’t want to hear his stomach growling the whole lesson, you know?”  
  
   “No, I suppose not,” said the girl.   
  
   “Anyway, he didn’t take it. Well, he may have, but that’s when he noticed that there was a potion in it.”   
  
   “And you believed him?” Hermione asked. She had no idea why Professor Snape would lie and she knew how good a Potioneer he was, so she was positive he could sniff it out.   
  
   “Well… no, not at first. But… why would he lie?” shrugged Harry. “I mean, he has no business with my relationship to Ginny. It was rather embarrassing, actually.”  
   Harry once more felt himself flush a little. If he hadn’t have said Ginny had made it for him, Snape probably would have accused him of trying to make him fall in love with him. He went even redder at the thought, thankful that he could look down at his socks.   
  
   “I can’t believe this…” Hermione whispered, looking shocked over the whole thing. “I trusted Ginny… I thought you two were in love…” How could she do this to Harry all this time?  
   Hermione easily pieced everything together from the new found knowledge. That Ginny had clearly run out of the potion when Harry had broken up with her. With everything that had been going on, there wouldn’t have been time to get new supplies. And she did notice Ginny was more clingy to Harry than she’d ever been, but who wouldn’t be!? Their lives were in danger! They could have died the night of the battle. Now she realises that it was Ginny just hanging on and trying to keep Harry close to her so his feelings would stay.  
   “Have you talked to her about it?” she asked, looking back to the boy. When Harry just shrugged, she looked mortified. “Harry, you have to say something! She can’t keep doing this to you! She’s… betraying your trust! Your friendship!”  
  
   “And what do you suppose I say?” Harry asked, throwing his arms up. “I don’t know what to say! If I tell her, she’ll get upset, and don’t get me started on Ron. He’ll always choose his family first, which I have nothing against as it’s the right thing to do, but… It’s just better if I say nothing at all and maybe she’ll stop.”   
  
   Hermione’s lips parted as she was about to protest but the look in Harry’s eyes just said he really couldn’t deal with more drama right now. So instead, she settled back down.  
   “I’m sorry…” she whispered.   
  
   “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, Hermione. You’re not the one trying to make me fall in love with you,” he laughed.     
  
   “You know what I mean,” the girl urged. “I know you don’t need this, and if it was any other time, I would be marching up to Ginny and exposing the truth… but I know you just want things back to normal.”  
   She wanted to confront Ginny terribly about her wrong doings. How could she do that to Harry? They’d been together for years now and all because of a potion? She was stupid not to have been able to tell. She should have known! She just thought Harry and Ginny had been awkward, though. Harry had never been good with girls before.  
  
   Harry looked up. “Well, I guess I’m lucky that it’s not any other time,” he smiled, Hermione giving him a scolding look, however, she soon smiled, looking back down.   
   “Thank you, Hermione, for not saying anything. I just want things to go back to normal and I don’t want to lose one of my best friends over it. I’m tired of losing people around me. I’m not going to take anything from Ginny in the future and maybe she’ll get the point. If things get bad, then… I will tell her about it, if that makes you feel any better?”  
  
   It did. Hermione nodded and she fell silent, thinking about it all.   
   She looked back up, though, watching as Harry just stared at the floor. “What are you going to do about Professor Snape?” she asked.  
  
   Harry didn’t raise his eyes; he just felt his blood go to his face. “Nothing… Why would I do anything about him?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
   Hermione shook her head. “He’d been saving your backside for years, Harry… I’m pretty sure that’s got to mean something.”  
  
   This time Harry did look up. “Hermione, he’s a professor, he did that for my mother and Dumbledore, and… it’s Snape!”   
  
   “But… you do like him, don’t you?”  
  
   Harry turned away once more, shrugging his shoulders. He felt a bit like a child now, not knowing what to say. He didn’t even want to admit it! But yes, he did like Snape. And the more he thought about the professor… the more he realised he actually was attracted to him.   
   It was strange. He didn’t even know he liked men. He’d always been with a girl. Well, Cho was a bit of a phase, and Ginny was forced by potion. But… Snape!? He liked Cedric and he had found him attractive, but he didn’t like him like _that_.   
  
   “You know it’s against Hogwarts rules, Harry… I mean, for a student and a professor to have a relationship as long as they’re teaching them,” informed the witch.   
  
   “Hermione, you’re acting like I actually want a relationship with him. It’s _Snape_! I’m Harry Potter, the guy who pretty much ruined his life. If it weren’t for me, who knows what Snape’s life could be like. Plus, he’s not stupid, I’m pretty sure he knows it’s against the rules and it’s not like he likes me anyway. He never would! So can we please stop talking about this? It’s nothing and I’m sure it’ll go away once my mind gets back on track.”  
  
   As Harry stood to go to bed, Hermione stood up herself. “He does like you, you know… If he didn’t, then your magic wouldn’t be reaching out to his and having such a reaction.”  
  
   Harry stopped dead in his tracks, though not turning around. His whole body felt like butterflies were flying around at the thought of Professor Snape actually liking him back. Hermione had it wrong, she had to. The man would never have feelings for him, let alone a student.   
   “Goodnight, Hermione,” he muttered, heading up the stairs to his own bed. He didn’t sleep easy, though. The whole day had been a rough one with finding out about Ginny and then admitting that he had feelings for Snape. Inside, his head was a basket-case of hormonal emotions and it seemed impossible to shut them out.   
  
*****   
   Severus had been walking back to his own common-room when Minerva had stopped him—much to his displeasure. She questioned how Potter’s lesson had gone and he told her honestly what had happened. He had nothing to hide and he cared little for Ginerva Weasley. In fact, he even suggested expulsion.  
  
   McGonagall shook her head. “I will certainly be giving her detention and removing points. This cannot stay a secret. She is a student here and must be punished for stealing your supplies and giving a potion unwillingly to another student.”   
   She couldn’t believe this had happened. Ginny? Of all the Gryffindors? It just seemed so wrong and out of character for the young Weasley girl. Then again, she had known that Ginny had had strong feelings for Potter and she was just a young girl at the time. Love made you do crazy things.   
  
   “I doubt Potter had any intention of confronting the girl about it,” said Severus. “From the looks of things, the boy has enough on his mind with his ever-growing fan-club.” His voice dripped with disapproval.   
  
   The woman lifted a brow. “And you know this for a fact, Severus?”   
  
   “If you were an eighteen year old with a lack of true friends, would you not hang on to the closest you had? Even if they broke your trust? Isn’t that what you Gryffindor’s are all about? Forgiving?” the wizard said with a raised brow himself.   
  
   McGonagall shook her head lightly. “I suppose with everything that had gone on… Unfortunately, as Headmistress of Hogwarts, this is something I must do. She’s broken the school rules and she must be punished,” she sighed, regretting having to take more points from her House. They were two days in and already falling far behind.   
  
   Severus’ hands went together in front of him, his expression unreadable. “Potter will know, then?”  
  
   “I’m afraid so, Severus. Unless Miss Weasley decides not to tell him, it is up to her in the end. I’m sure her friends will ask why she is serving detention and the loss of points to their House.”  
   She looked at the man curiously. “The girl has broken school rules, Severus, you had to report this to me. I’m sure Potter will understand this.”   
  
   “If I cared for Potter’s feelings, I would have kept the events to myself,” said Snape as if it were nothing. He thought telling Potter that his girlfriend had been putting potions in his drink and food would have actually pleased him more than it did. But it hadn’t.   
   Seeing Harry torn up like that had actually made him feel quite awful. It disgusted him that he had some kind of kindness towards the boy. He hated it. After all this time, having been cruel to Potter and his friends. Well… he wasn’t expecting the change of events. Stupid boy having to save his life! He liked it better when he didn’t like Potter at all.     
  
   “Oh? Is that so?” asked the Headmistress, her eyes on the other. “It certainly didn’t look like you hated the boy this morning, giving him breakfast outside in the courtyard.”   
   Severus seemed to go stiff at the thought of anyone having seen that and Minerva just perked herself up.  
  
   “A boy must eat, Headmistress…” Severus suggested, his hands going to his pockets as he looked at the woman.   
  
   “Harry is more than a boy, Severus, he’s a grown man. He’s passed his wizarding age and he is quite capable of being an adult.”  
  
   Snape made a disgruntled noise in his throat. “You call causing havoc in the corridors being an adult? You call being tricked by a Weasley girl being an adult?” he asked. “The moment Potter steps out of Hogwarts he’s going to find himself in a ditch unless he starts gaining control over his own magic, or unless Miss Granger has him under her thumb.”  
  
   A sense of surprise and pleasure went across Minerva’s face. “Well what would _you_ suppose the boy do? He must finish his studies and this is his final year. The only person keeping him back from being an Auror was you, Severus.”  
  
   Him? Snape let his hands out of his pockets once more. “Maybe Potter and his friends shouldn’t have broken so many school rules and stuck their heads into more books and they wouldn’t have had such low scores,” he snapped back—excluding Miss Granger.   
  
   “And turn out like you?”  
  
   Snape threw a nasty look at the Headmistress. “At least I passed my O.W.L’s and N.E.W.T’s. What has Potter done? He‘s barely scraped by on all of his exams.”    
  
   “You expect him to do well in school when Voldemort was hunting him down and even getting into his mind? And now, with students swarming him in the corridors? Severus, the boy needs help more than you realise. Have you not seen how down he’s been lately? If he doesn’t pick up soon… I’m afraid he might suffer depression and not pass his finals.”  
  
   Severus was beginning to lose his patience and snapped, “You honestly think I care about Harry Potter’s feelings!? He’s done nothing but relish in his popularity the moment he arrived at this blasted school!”   
  
   The witch was horrified that Severus could actually think that. Sure, the boy got into a little bit of trouble, but she had seen the people he was brought up with. They were no family! His family were his friends here at Hogwarts, and so he acted out with them, but that did not mean he enjoyed being pushed into being The Chosen One.   
   “Oh, you fool! Don’t think that I haven’t seen the way you two have been acting around one another. Potter looks up to you and you shut him down just because you don’t _want_ to like him! He may be a popular boy but that is not by choice, Severus! We were the ones that forced that on him when he became The-Boy-Who-Lived. The least we could do is look out for him!”  
  
   “What do you think I have been doing the last eight years!?” Snape retorted. “I have risked my life for him more than I ever have for anyone else. Now that the Dark Lord is gone, I owe him nothing!”   
  
   Minerva was about to snap back when she realised Severus had said ‘eight’. Her eyes looked back to him curiously.  
  
   “Cat got your tongue?”  
  
   “You said eight years, not seven.”  
  
   Severus swallowed hard. “You’re counting school years…” he said quickly, trying to cover up his own slip.   
  
   Minerva just smiled. “Severus… I’ve seen the way you look at him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Why do you think I put you two together in tutoring? Miss Granger would have easily taken Harry.”   
  
   “You… what!?” Snape said in surprised, dark eyes widening as he felt his chest flare in anger.   
  
   The Headmistress just shrugged her tight shoulders. “Severus… it’s not a crime to like Potter. In fact, he wants you to like him.”  
  
   “What the bloody hell are you on about!? He’s a boy!”   
  
   “He’s a young _man_ , Severus. One that should have, technically, finished school the last term.”  
  
   Snape just looked astonished, not knowing what to say. What was this woman on about!? She was talking as if…  
   Severus found himself leaning his back against the stone wall as he felt blood rise into his cheeks. “Headmistress… I don’t know what you’re even… insinuating, but… Potter? No…!”  
  
   “You’re going to tell me that the morning you threw Potter from you, you didn’t feel his magic connect with yours?”   
  
   Severus turned away, folding his arms, his robes swishing. “Don’t be stupid. The boy throws all sorts of magic around without even realising it,” he muttered.  
  
   Minerva just smirked once more. “You may have disliked Potter for a long time, Severus, but you two have a lot more in common than you think. You know it’s true. You’ve watched him grow, Severus, and I know very well that you care for him. More than you realise…”   
  
   “I refuse to talk any more on this subject,” the man said darkly. “I have work to tend to before the night is out. Goodnight, Headmistress.”   
  
   As Severus turned towards the dungeons, Minerva shook her head, unable to stop the smile from creasing over her lips.


	11. Attraction

Chapter Eleven: Attraction.   
  
   Severus lay awake in bed, a hand behind his head. How could he possibly sleep with all that was going on in his head at the moment? Could Minerva be right? Could he possibly have feelings for Potter after all this time?  
   Well… that would explain the erection he’d gotten thinking about the boy’s magic.  
   No!  
   He slammed a hand down onto the covers before running it through his freshly washed hair. It couldn’t be true! She was just making crude assumptions. Besides, it was clear they didn’t like one another. Their relationship was strictly professor and student. Slytherin and Gryffindor. Merlin, why would a Gryffindor ever like him? And why would a Slytherin ever like a Gryffindor?   
   Then again, Lily had been a Gryffindor. But he’d known Lily years before they went to Hogwarts.   
   Severus frowned, pushing himself up. He was in his nightclothes, which was a dark grey and old fashioned one piece with buttons at the front. It covered his arms snuggly, the same as most of his body, and as the dungeons were stone (even with a rug on the floor), he had white cotton socks to keep warm.  
   In the corner of the room, Fawkes was perched, watching him as he moved over to the fireplace. The phoenix had decided that sleeping in this room was better than the office, so every night Severus moved the perch in here so he could sleep—otherwise the bird made an awful racket and kicked up a stink.   
   At first, it had been quite odd. He wondered if the bird was trying to make him feel uncomfortable. He’d never had anyone, even a creature, in his room before—well, besides the house elves. But he hardly called for house elves. He was quite capable of doing things himself.   
   Lazily, he waved his hand and the fire picked up, the room glowing a bright orange now as he settled himself into the chair. He placed a hand to his forehead, trying to brush the thoughts away, but it did nothing.  
   He supposed he could take a potion to aid his sleep but he didn’t enjoy taking so many periodically. It was better if his body learnt how to deal with things on its own rather than shoving elixirs down his throat every day and night. He was smarter than that.    
   The fire soothed him, though, and he stretched out lazily as he could relax in the quietness and privacy of his own quarters.   
   Usually Severus was quite skilled at keeping his feelings to himself. Hell, he had to be. The Dark Lord didn’t trust him for no reason. He’d been tortured to spill things before and he’d had to learn how to close his mind in case the Dark Lord wished to get inside and read it. He couldn’t possibly have the Dark Lord finding out his true loyalties were to Dumbledore.   
   He supposed none of that mattered anymore, though. The Dark Lord—Voldemort—was gone. Hell, if Potter could throw it around like no one cared, then he could say the name of Voldemort as well.   
   He vented a frustrated sigh, looking up when Fawkes flapped his wings and flew over to him, sitting on the arm of the lounge.   
   “What do you want?” he asked snappily, Fawkes tilting his head. The bird just gave a somewhat comforting chitter.   
   Severus moved himself back up into the seat, lifting his hand and giving the bird a gentle pat. “I don’t know why you stay here,” he muttered, looking at the phoenix. “I killed the greatest wizard there is, and his pet bird decides I’m next in line to own it?” He grunted.   
   Fawkes gave a sharp squawk.  
   “Unbelievable. If I can’t sleep, you can’t.” How in the world did Dumbledore handle this bird? He always saw Fawkes just sitting there peacefully as if listening and watching. Apparently the bird had more life to him than he’d thought. He got the feeling Fawkes had been watching him for a long time.  
   Maybe he just missed the company of Albus. That was most likely it. He’d spent most of his life with him, so of course Fawkes would miss him.   
   “I know I murdered him…” he murmured, feeling stupid for even talking to the creature. Fawkes was intelligent, though, and he was certain the bird could actually understand him. He seemed to anyway.   
   “I regret it, if that helps any… I am far from Albus Dumbledore, but… if you wish to stay with me, then you’re more than welcome, Fawkes. I think I’ve gotten used to your antics by now, I must admit.”  
   Fawkes pulled playfully at a strand of hair, making Severus eyes flatten. “Alright, I will attempt to sleep, if only to please you,” he muttered, letting Fawkes step onto his wrist. He walked back over to the perch and placed him there, the fire still lighting up most of the room.   
   Fawkes gave a light purr as he leant his hand down and gave his chest a small scratch. Severus turned back to the four-poster bed and waved the fire down a tad so it wasn’t so bright. He then popped himself under the sheets and attempted to shut off his mind the best he could.  
  
*****       
   “You what!?” Ron exclaimed, his eyes snapping open in horror as Ginny came out about the love potion. He felt sick to the stomach as he looked to his little sister, Harry just looking down at his plate as it was lunch time in the Great Hall.   
   “And you knew about this!?” Ron’s eyes went to Harry this time.   
  
   “I… just found out,” Harry lied, not wanting to get Professor Snape involved at all. He was angry that the man even _told_ McGonagall, but he figured it was policy. Should have known Snape would have told someone as soon as possible so he could remove more points from Gryffindor. How he had a crush on that man, he had no idea! He was furious at him right now.   
  
   Ginny looked down, clearly ashamed of herself. “Harry… I’m sorry,” she said. She looked to Hermione for help, but the girl didn’t step in. Even Hermione was on McGonagall’s side with this. Of course she was, she’d broken the rules and toyed with Harry’s life. But she’d just wanted to be with him.   
  
   Harry just nodded. He didn’t want to say anything bad in front of Ron and he certainly didn’t want to make Ginny cry anymore. There were already tears in her eyes and she’d come in puffy-cheeked, which only meant she’d probably cried when McGonagall confronted her about it.  
  
   “I can’t believe this!” Ron shook his head in disbelief, “My own sister!”   
  
   “Ron, it’s alright,” Harry tried to say, knowing Ginny had had enough. He really didn’t want her getting any more upset than she already was.  
  
   “I’m gunna kill George for ever letting you into that store of his!” he hissed, though feeling a pang of guilt as he mentioned his older brother without his twin.   
  
   This time Hermione stepped in. “Ronald!” she called out. “Can’t you see she’s had enough? Besides, George doesn’t sell _real_ potions…”   
  
   “I don’t care!” Ron yelled. “You’ve been poisoning my best friend for how long? I thought you two were really something, you know? I can’t believe after all this time… No wonder you broke up with her.”  
  
   Ginny gave her brother a horrified look before standing up and running from the hall. Most eyes in the hall turned to her before the door to the hall slammed closed.   
  
   Harry shot Ron an angry look. “Ron, it’s fine. If anything, I should be the one yelling at her and I’m not. She’s had enough, alright?”  
  
   “I can’t believe you’re defending her. She made you fall in love with her, mate! If Hermione ever did that to me…!” He stopped when the girl gave him a very mean look. He knew Hermione would never break school rules like that—despite their past rule breaking habits. Hermione had strong morals. Certainly when it came to others feelings.  
  
   “And you’re her brother,” Harry said forcefully. “Look, with everything that’s gone on, neither of us need this, okay? I don’t want to be mad at her. I just want things to go back to normal. Right now… I think she needs the support of her older brother, don’t you think?”   
  
   The red-haired boy seemed to relax a little, slumping his shoulders. “Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll check on her in a bit… give her some time to think about what she’s done… you know?”   
  
   Harry just nodded, not wanting to talk about it anymore. Instead, he took one of the sandwiches from the table and started eating it.  
   The rest of the time was quiet and no one really said anything. Soon enough, it was time for classes to start up once again and Harry was swarmed as he tried to get to class.   
   The new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher was the one to save him this time and he was well along his way to Transfiguration class with Professor McGonagall.  
  
*****   
   At the end of the day, Harry didn’t have time to rest after his classes as he had to head down to the dungeons for his tutoring lesson with Professor Snape.   
   He was thankful that it was quiet down here and he relished in the emptiness. Even if there was no sunlight and it was rather dank and cold, it still beat the crowds that were on the upper levels. He’d had enough for one day.  
   Stepping into the archway of the classroom, he saw a cauldron that was set up on the desk over a blue flame. Clearly he was going to be learning something practical today—which made him quite excited.  
   Professor Snape was looking through the cupboards for various ingredients (Harry figured), and he stood there, just watching as the professor was in his element.    
   Harry knew Snape was a great Potioneer but he never really realised that the wizard had a passion for it. It was somehow blatantly obvious now as he was setting things out about the classroom, not having realised he was at the door. Something made Harry not want to make a noise. He was actually enjoying watching the professor walk back and forth while he was in his comfort zone.  
   It was actually quite… pleasant to watch. Snape could be snarky and snappy and he even made others feel horrible if they failed at Potions, but right now there was this certain aura around him, like he was actually… at peace.   
   His dark robes followed him around the room and Harry noticed he had a certain stride of pride in his work. Well, he knew Snape was good, and Snape knew he was good as well. He guessed the professor was allowed all the pride in the world if he was good at it. But he never really showed it in class. Actually, most of the time, Snape was pretty dull and sharp in teaching.   
   Taking a step into the room, he put his bag onto the table, catching the other’s attention.   
   “Professor,” he said with a small nod.  
  
   Severus turned at the sound, putting down a phial he’d been inspecting. “Good afternoon, Potter. You can get your book out and move to the cauldron.”   
  
   Before coming here, Harry had grabbed the potions book that had belonged to Snape and he took it from his bag. He figured if he wanted to do this right, then he’d have to learn just like every other student. Hell, he was probably _lucky_ that Snape was going to teach him extra lessons to catch up. He could really learn a few things from the wizard to get up front in classes.   
   “Sir,” he said, those dark eyes looking at him, “I thought I should give this back to you… I… wouldn’t feel right having it anymore. Plus, the last time I used something out of it, I almost killed Malfoy…” That was part of the reason he was returning it. He didn’t want it falling into someone else’s hands. It could have burned in the Room of Requirements, but he’d snuck back. He’d rather it safe in Snape’s hands (well, he was sure Snape wouldn’t leave it lying around now).  
  
   Approaching the boy, Snape almost snatched the book from Harry’s hands, putting it down onto his own desk. “You should never have kept this,” he said darkly, eyeing Harry.   
  
   “To be fair, Professor, you should never have written in it,” Harry said. It wasn’t his fault he’d found it in the cupboards. “It’s still the school’s property.”    
  
   Snape sneered, however, it was true. He shouldn’t have written in the book and he certainly shouldn’t have left it here. That was his own fault, and he knew that.  
   “Don’t talk back to me, Potter, or I’ll remove even more points from your House. Merlin knows you don’t need that, but I’d be more than happy to comply,” he smirked.   
  
   Harry frowned immediately, taking the other book that Snape had given him yesterday morning. He didn’t need any more points being taken away from Gryffindor House.   
   “Sir… why did you tell Professor McGonagall about Ginny?” he asked. He really would have preferred if everything could have been kept on the lowdown. He was still annoyed that Snape had told on her.   
  
   “It’s school policy to report any rule breaking, Potter, you should know that,” explained Severus, approaching the cauldron. His voice wasn’t nearly as snarky as it could have been, though. In fact, he made a note not to make Harry even more frustrated than possible.  
   Approaching the young wizard, he could already feel the magic rolling off him. He tried his best to ignore it but it was very potent in the air. Instead, he took the book that was on Harry’s desk and opened it to a certain page.   
   “I’ve taken the liberty of getting your ingredients for you as they are quite simple and you should be able to identify them already, like any first-year,” he made clear. “You will be brewing a simple potion today, as I wish to examine just how you work with both the ingredients and a cauldron.”  
  
   Harry swallowed gently, nodding as his eyes were fixed on the dark ones. They almost pulled him in. So dark and mysterious. And that voice of his, it was utterly alluring at the moment. Harry never realised just how soft and soothing it could be.   
   Snape had terrified him the first year he’d been at Hogwarts. He was very intimidating, taller than him, and wearing all black was scary. Over the years, his attitude had changed as he’s grown up, and he was able to fight back with the professor—much to Snape’s irritation. But now? Now things were even stranger.  
   He could now sense the magic in the room. He figured it was just the scent of the cauldron that was before him, having all sorts of different chemicals and things inside it, but it wasn’t. It was sweeter than that. It was almost like he was being drawn in by it.   
   “So… you’ll be watching me?” Harry asked, his eyes widening a little as he looked at Snape. The thought of Professor Snape looming over his shoulder wasn’t a strange one. It wasn’t the first time it had happened. Snape made it clear to do it to many students. And poor Neville always ended up getting nervous and screwing up in front of him.   
   However, this time something made Harry very nervous at the thought. Having Snape in the same room with him was enough, but feeling the man so close to him? He couldn’t help but feel a familiar tingle in his gut as blood rushed to his cheeks.   
  
   “I’m positive that won’t be an issue for you, Mister Potter. You already have a thousand eyes on you when you strut the corridors,” muttered the professor, putting his hands behind his back. “Now, read the instructions carefully and prepare your ingredients. I’ve corrected the ingredients in the book as I’ve not prepared the blackboard.” A simple charm, nothing permanent.   
  
   Ignoring the statement about his ‘strutting’, Harry looked nervously to the book and looked at the first instructions.   
   Looking through the row of jars that Snape had put on the table for him, he went to go for one before hearing a tsk come from the professor. He took his hand back, not knowing the difference between half of the liquids on the table. Seven years of doing this previously and still he didn’t know much about Potions.    
   Magpie blood. It had to be red, right? Most normal animals had red blood. But there were two different types of red on the table in separate jars, and he picked the one on the left that looked dark in colour.  
   Holding it up, he looked at the professor for confirmation and Snape gave nothing but a blank expression. That made him even more nervous. Snape could easily trick him and things could go terribly wrong from there. But he took out two drops of the dark liquid, letting it fall into the cauldron.   
   A low hissing and bubbling sound came from the inside immediately. For a moment, he thought he’d done something wrong, but when it settled down, he relaxed.  
  
   “Lucky guess, Potter…” murmured Snape, eyeing the boy. “Continue,” he ordered, taking a few steps back and moving around to the front of the station Harry was working at.   
  
   Harry had managed to get all of the ingredients right, but when it came to cutting, Snape hissed and he stopped, looking up. “It says cut it.”  
  
   “Potions isn’t just about following instructions. Many of the ingredients perform in different ways depending on how you prepare them, Potter,” Snape pointed out harshly. “Don’t be so rough with it. Do it gently. Feel the blade of the knife slice into the ingredient to release its magic. Without the magic, there’s not much point, is there? Do use your brain, it isn’t sitting there simply to take up space.”   
  
   Harry just looked up, bewildered that ingredients could release magic by cutting them a certain way. Then again, Snape was the Potions master for a reason and the ingredients all ended up having some kind of magic in the end. He should have already known this! Maybe it was just his nerves.    
   Taking the knife into his hand once more, he gently put the blade into it and sliced the piece of pickled root. “Better?” he asked, almost amused.  
  
   “Don’t be so cocky,” Snape scoffed. He took off his outer robes (they could get in the way of brewing sometimes) and placed them onto the nearest chair before snatching the knife from Harry’s hands and grabbing the root.  
   “Watch carefully, Potter,” he almost whispered, his fingers gentle with the knife. Carefully and skilfully, he sliced the root on the chopping board before putting the knife back down. Immediately, a rather sweet smell expelled from the sliced pieces. One that Harry had failed to produce.  
  
   “It really matters how you cut it?” Harry asked, seeing Snape’s facial expression fall.   
  
   “No, of course not, I just said that to sabotage your potions making—of _course_ it does, Potter! How many years have you been taking Potions classes? This is basic knowledge!” the professor pushed, shaking his head in disbelief.   
   “Like your mother my…” He stopped, Harry staring at him. “Well, get back to it.”   
  
   Harry continued, making sure to be more gentle with his slicing this time. He was happy when he could smell the same scent when he cut into them that Snape had produced and he gave a rather satisfied smile before gently putting the pieces, one by one (per instructions) into the cauldron.   
  
   Severus watched intently as the boy continued making the potion. By now, he was half way through and he’d just need to brew it for a while.  
   There were moments when Harry did, indeed, seem much like his mother over a cauldron. In many classes, Potter had failed because his friends weren’t as good as him, or they were distracting him (Granger was good, but she was too text-book a lot of the time). And, admittedly, he did know some of the Slytherin’s had been sabotaging their potions making. He never saw it, however, so he didn’t punish them. It was Gryffindor’s word against Slytherin’s, and it was no guess who he was going to choose.   
   Watching him now, though, he could tell there was a Potioneer inside the boy, much like his mother’s skill. It was not a passion, though, which Severus couldn’t quite understand as this had always interested him.   
   Potter wanted to be an Auror. He was simply taking this class because he needed to, to get his desired career. He supposed there was nothing wrong with that, but part of him would have enjoyed if Harry was actually interested in the subject rather than just _having_ to take it.  
   He stood with his hands behind his back, circling like a vulture, just watching how the boy did things. He could tell Harry had been quite nervous at the start but he was beginning to get more confident in his movements.   
   As Harry began to stir the ingredients, Snape frowned. “No, no, no…” he said, moving up behind Harry and taking his hand. “You have to allow the ingredients to blend together smoothly. Don’t just toss everything in and then thrash it all around like you’re some caveman cooking over a fire.”  
  
   Harry was started by the sudden movement of the professor who was now leaning up against him. He swallowed hard as he found the strong hand taking his wrist and motioning the gentle movement in his stirring.  
   Immediately, he could feel Snape’s magic up against his own and he felt his heart thump hard into his chest, blood flowing to his cheeks. He made sure to keep his face forward and down so Snape couldn’t see the hot blush burning his face.  
   But it felt good. So much better than he ever thought it would. Snape’s body wasn’t cold and gangly like it had been as a child, but actually rather normal beneath those clothes, and he could feel the warmth of the man pressed up against him. Now he really wondered what he looked like beneath those thick clothes of his.  
  
   Realising he was so close to Harry, Severus found himself unable to pull back. Well, he could if he wanted to, but that’s the thing: he _didn’t_ want to. Nor did his magic.  
   Harry was soft against his body and he could almost smell the boy’s magic. He could feel it under his skin, crawling its way into his own, and he realised Minerva was right. He _did_ have feelings for the young man! Not just sentimental ones, but a lust as well. A lust that seemed to be consuming every inch of his body right now.  
   He swallowed hard as Harry’s hand moved in sync with his own as they stirred the ingredients. This was stupid. This was wrong! How could he possibly have feelings for Harry Potter? The boy was a goddamn nuisance!  
   His eyes slowly went to the side of Harry’s face, and he could see the young man’s lips were parted, his green eyes wide as they were on their hands being linked. And he could see it, the magic between them dancing across their fingertips and around their wrists.   
   He pulled back immediately, wanting this to go no further. Not when the blush on Harry’s face was so enticing. Not when he wanted to steal those parted lips for himself. Oh, Merlin how in the world could this have happened to him!? Not when he’d cared so much for Lily! Anyone else meant nothing to him!  
  
   Looking down, Harry felt his hand take the stirrer shakily by itself, Professor Snape still up against him, though.   
   He could still feel his heart beating hard into his eardrums and he could tell his breath was shaken. He tried to hide it the best he could, but it was hard. He was certain Professor Snape hadn’t noticed his blush which was caused by the sheer amount of pleasure that rode through his bloodstream (and the thought of his most recent desire against him), but he still couldn’t turn around to face him.   
   He had heavy butterflies in his stomach, and he felt weak in the knees. But then he felt something that wasn’t his, and he stiffened, looking up but not behind him.   
   “P-Professor… um… your wand is… pressing into my back,” he almost whispered. He was positive it was the man’s wand. Despite having felt like Snape was connecting with his magic, he knew it was just his own imagination playing with him. Professor Snape would never like him romantically!   
  
   Severus backed away immediately from Harry, making sure his coat was hanging down and covering himself. He was thankful that his wand was actually up his sleeve, and he easily put it into his pocket just in case Harry suspected what it really had been.  
   As he stepped away from Harry, the magic between them didn’t stray. In fact, it was even worse, like it was trying to pull him back to the young man. But Severus refused it and headed swiftly over to the robes he’d removed and quickly put them back on.  
   “I think that’s enough for today, Potter,” he said, brushing himself down as professionally as possible. “You may go.”  
  
   Harry stopped, looking up. But he didn’t want to go! In fact, something in him really, _really_ wanted to stay. And something deep inside him wanted Professor Snape to be up against his back again.   
   “But I haven’t finished brewing the potion, sir,” he said as a feeble attempt to try and stay. He didn’t know why (well, he did), but he really wanted to be in the same room as Snape. He wanted to be pressed against him more. And his magic was sending him insane!  
   Snape was a powerful wizard, and so was he. Though Voldemort had been killed, that didn’t stop Harry from being strong. He’d learnt a lot through Voldemort’s transition, but when the Horcrux in him died, he thought his powers would be weak. They weren’t, because he’d learnt how to harvest it. He couldn’t always control it—obviously—but he didn’t lose what he’d learnt.   
  
   “I said you’ve done enough,” Snape murmured darkly. He did not want Harry Potter anywhere near him. Not now. Not while his magic was trying to pull the boy in.   
  
   As Snape walked past him, Harry reached out and grabbed the man’s arm to stop him. In his own lust and want, his magic gripped much tighter than his own hand had and Snape’s sleeve was ripped open to expose his Dark Mark.   
  
   Stopping immediately, Snape tore his arm from Harry’s grasp, hissing angrily. “Get. Out,” he said forcefully through clenched teeth.  
  
   Harry just stared as Snape quickly hid his arm as if it were evil. Did the Dark Mark haunt him that much?   
  
   “NOW!”  
  
   Jumping, Harry immediately grabbed his things and quickly paced himself out of the dungeons. He only stopped when he was halfway to the Great Hall and slumped his back against the wall, breathing heavily.  
   He didn’t mean to rip the buttons open on Snape’s sleeve, it’d just happened! He didn’t even think he’d grabbed him that hard!   
   Looking down to his hands, he gave a sigh. Snape really wasn’t pleased with him at all. Not only had he’d ripped the buttons open, but his whole sleeve had been lifted when he’d walked by, exposing the Dark Mark. Snape probably hated him more than ever now! He’d been angry enough the first time he’d walked in on something he shouldn’t have seen—the wound from Fluffy his first year here. Not to mention the whole Pensieve incident.   
   But this was the Dark Mark. A constant reminder that Snape had served Voldemort at one time, had betrayed Lily and the Potter family and their friends. Had betrayed everyone, really, and Albus Dumbledore. But he was sure his mother was the one Snape really regretted betraying. It’s why he’d come back, to save her from being killed.   
   Harry’s heart soon calmed down and he regained control on himself, putting his hands back over his bag straps. He’d put his things back up in the Gryffindor common-room and then he’d go to dinner in The Great Hall. He dreaded seeing Snape there. Even more, he knew Hermione would be asking him questions.   
   At least he knew one thing. Snape didn’t like him back. Especially now.   
  
*****    
   Sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, Harry made sure to keep his eyes on the plate in front of him. He had some baked potatoes on his plate, along with some greens and turkey breast.   
   Ginny wasn’t sitting beside him anymore, which he didn’t mind too much. She was further down the table with some of the girls in her own year. Ron had said he’d spoken to her after classes had ended (when he’d been in the dungeons with Snape). Neither of them seemed happy, but apparently most of it was out in the open.  
   Harry didn’t talk much the whole night. He honestly didn’t know what to talk about. He was itching to tell someone about what had happened with Professor Snape, but at the same time, he didn’t want anyone knowing what had happened. Not that he’d seen the Dark Mark tattoo on Snape’s left arm, that he didn’t mind—considering it was an accident. The man had freaked out over it just as much as when he’d seen his memories the first time around in Occlumency lessons.  
   He guessed he couldn’t blame Snape for being upset. One, he’d kind of torn his sleeve open (although nothing broke and the buttons were still intact), and the Dark Mark was something Snape was probably highly ashamed of.   
   Harry didn’t know much of Snape’s early life. Only what he saw in the Pensieve. Of course, he knew Snape had been friends with his mother and enemies with his father, but that was about it. He recalled seeing a young Snape at his dreary home, parents yelling from downstairs. Other than that, he didn’t know much at all.   
   Why did Snape become a Death Eater in the first place? Surely he didn’t believe the things Voldemort stood for. He had turned to Dumbledore. Though rare, he had seen some good in the Potions master.  
   It wasn’t just that, though. Harry couldn’t shake the feeling of Snape’s magic against him. His body, too. It had been wonderful, and he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been somewhat arousing.   
Snape felt good against his back. He felt strong. Powerful.   
   Harry knew he was a powerful wizard as well, but had Snape felt the same thing he had? He wanted so much to ask the man all of this, but he knew Snape would just look at him with those dark, poisonous eyes and throw him out. Wouldn’t be the first time.  
   He mentally sighed in aggravation. He just wanted Snape to be more forward.   
   The man had spent years tormenting him in class, and he made no effort to hide his true feelings for him. He was sarcastic, witty and cruel with his comments. Despite what Snape had said about him having to be cruel so Voldemort wouldn’t know, the both of them knew he’d enjoyed every second of being cruel to him. Every bit of it was revenge for what James did—taking Lily from him.  
   Was this what their relationship was going to be?   
  
   “How was your Potions lesson, Harry?”   
  
   Looking up from his plate, Harry looked at Hermione in surprise.   
   “It was fine,” he said all too quickly, though feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. He cleared his throat and ate some of his food, hiding it.   
  
   “Wish you could be with us, mate,” Ron said, giving a highly sympathetic smile. “Bet you’d give him a run for his money if you still had his old book.”   
  
   Hermione gave a horrified look at the thought. “Snape would kill Harry if he knew he still had that book.” Her eyes moved to the boy. “You didn’t get it back, did you? If Snape finds out you have it… he won’t let you into his classroom again.”  
  
   “Relax, Hermione,” Harry laughed, “I gave it back to him.” He ignored the look of shock that went across Ron’s face from both going and getting the book back, and from him freely handing it back to Snape.    
   “He would’ve known if I still had it, and Hermione’s right, Ron. As much as the book is brilliant… it’s dangerous. I don’t want any other student finding it, so I thought I should give it back to its rightful owner. At least Snape will hopefully lock it away now. Or burn it.”   
  
   Ron sighed. “I coulda used that.”   
  
   “Ron!” Hermione gasped. “No, if you’re going to catch up, the both of you, you’ll do it right. Besides… Professor Snape is a better teacher than I am, so I’m sure Harry’s getting the best lessons there are to catch up.”   
  
   Harry couldn’t help but smile at that. He never really realised it before, but yes, Snape was a good teacher. He’d showed him small tricks and knickknacks that would help him greatly when entering Potions class once more.  
   He wondered if Hermione would even know some of the things he could pick up on. Well… that was assuming Potions lessons were still running.  
   He frowned at that.   
  
   “What is it, Harry?” Nothing seemed to escape Hermione Granger. Not even emotions.   
  
   “I might have to come back to you after what happened before in the dungeons, Hermione,” said the boy, getting curious looks from his two friends. “I kind of… accidently ripped Snape’s sleeve up.”  
  
   Ron laughed, but Hermione seemed curious and surprised at the same time. “What do you mean ‘ripped’ up?” You didn’t just accidently rip someone sleeve…  
  
   Harry didn’t know how to explain this without something too personal coming out, but he breathed gently, leaning in a little to make sure no one else could hear what was being said in the conversation.   
   “I don’t really know what happened, to be honest,” he confessed. “My… wand must have got caught when he walked past,” he lied, not knowing how else to explain it. “Anyway, I was sort of angry about the whole Ginny thing, and I guess my accidental magic came out. Pulled his sleeve up and everything to see his Dark Mark.”  
  
   Once more, Ron seemed amused at the whole thing, despite Ginny being mentioned. Hermione, on the other hand, didn’t seem very pleased.  
   “Harry, you’ve really got to get control of your magic,” she urged. “You could have hurt him.”  
  
   “Would have been bloody brilliant,” Ron grinned.  
  
   Harry didn’t actually feel anything pleasurable at the thought of hurting Professor Snape. “Well, he kicked me out. So… I dunno if classes will still be on. I’ll have to check with him.”  
  
   “He seems fine now,” Hermione stated, looking up to the High Table.   
  
   Harry didn’t want to look, but he stole a quick glance and realised the sleeve on Snape’s arm was rolled back down and buttoned up perfectly.   
  
   “Sorry, Harry, better luck next time, ey?” mumbled Ron.  
  
   But Harry didn’t feel bad about that. He actually felt rather pleased to see that Snape wasn’t angry or anything at the moment. Maybe Potions lessons would still be on after all.   
   The rest of the night was quiet and soon enough everyone headed back to the dormitories. Harry made a note to catch Professor Snape before he could get back to his own quarters.  
   “Professor,” he called out, Snape turning in his tracks as he caught up. “I was wondering… when is our next Potions class? I’m… really sorry about what happened earlier, I guess I was still just angry about Ginny and all that’s gone on,” he lied.  
  
   Snape had little time to care about Ginerva Weasley. However, he was actually pleased to see that Harry wanted to continue with the classes. After this afternoon and what happened, he wasn’t sure the young man would want to continue. He doubted he would if he ever knew that wasn’t his wand that had been eagerly prodding against his lower back.  
   Putting a hand into his pocket, he withdrew a small piece of parchment. “You will not have a lesson tomorrow, but you will have them three times a week starting Monday.”  
  
   “Just like Quidditch,” Harry mused. “That should be easy enough to remember.”  
  
   Snape knew Harry wasn’t playing Quidditch this year, which he saw as a positive if the boy wanted to pass his lessons.   
   “Just like Quidditch…” he drawled, sarcasm clear in his voice as potion making was nothing like Quidditch.   
   Handing over the piece of parchment, he allowed Harry to take it. “So you remember. I will not be tolerating any kind of lateness. Is that understood, Potter?”  
  
   Looking at the dates and times, Harry nodded. Considering he had no Quidditch this year, it should be fine. He’d still have a lot of homework to do, but maybe he could get some help from Hermione. She was always willing to help better his and Ron’s grades.   
  
   “Anything else, Mister Potter?”   
  
   “Actually, yes,” said Harry, Snape’s eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly. “I really am sorry about what happened earlier. I… I don’t know exactly what happened, but… I’m sorry. I’m glad I didn’t damage anything.”  
  
   Snape didn’t look at his sleeve; he just held a very unreadable expression. “Off to bed, Potter.”   
  
   “Yes, sir,” nodded Harry, knowing that Snape clearly didn’t want to talk about the Dark Mark that was on his arm.   
  
   They both went their separate ways and went to bed.


	12. Portraits And Outbursts

Chapter Twelve: Portraits and Outbursts.  
  
   A few weeks had passed, and Hallowe’en was coming up. Potions lessons with Snape had been odd at first and Snape had stayed clear away from Harry—much to his disappointment. Harry had really enjoyed feeling the professor up against him.  
   At times, he was still annoyed by his feelings for the older wizard. Snape was still being snarky and sarcastic, but by now Harry was beginning to enjoy the man’s company.  
   It was quiet in the dungeons and he felt he could be himself. Snape didn’t look up to him like all of those other students who didn’t even know him. They saw a hero. Something he was quite tired of hearing considering he didn’t do it alone. Snape, however, treated him just like any other human being—which, considering it was Snape, wasn’t exactly the nicest. But he didn’t lie and that’s what Harry appreciated the most. He was honest and he didn’t try and get his attention like everyone else did—or at least in a horrible paparazzi way.  
   Hermione had asked a few times about his crush and if it had gone away. Harry hadn’t really told her a yes or a no. He didn’t like lying to his friends, but he still felt weird about the fact that he had developed a crush on his Potions professor. Snape was the last person he ever thought he’d grow feelings for.   
   Sometimes it felt more than a crush as well, which worried him. Some days the wizard was just constantly on his mind. He’d think about him before he went to bed, which happened to be a bad idea because sometimes he ended up having extremely erotic and graphic dreams which involved the Potions master. He’d had to put up a few silencing charms just in case he said something in his sleep that he didn’t wish Ron and his friends to hear.  
   He still hadn’t told Ron, but Ron was beginning to get the hint not to talk so negatively about Snape all of the time. Ron didn’t know, and he knew Hermione wouldn’t tell him, but the thought did occur. He just knew Ron wouldn’t understand, though. Then again, maybe he just wasn’t giving his friend the credit he should. Ron was, after all, a great friend.  
   Ron hadn’t really had a run in with Snape considering he wasn’t in his classes yet, but he would have to start getting used to the professor again soon if he wanted to pass Potions class. At least Harry was getting time with Snape and getting used to his behaviour. He would be well prepared for classes once they started, which should be quite soon.  
   Over the weeks, he’d done many lessons and Snape seemed impressed (he hoped) when he worked by himself. Maybe that was the key. Shame so many classes you had to have a buddy in, because Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he worked much better without a partner.   
   On his way to dinner, he ran into Professor McGonagall who stopped him, asking about how his lessons were going with Snape. For some reason, there was a certain sparkle in her eyes that made him a little uneasy.  
   “Yeah, they’re going great, Professor, thank you,” he smiled, trying to hide any personal thought on Snape.   
  
   McGonagall nodded happily. “Good to hear, Potter. I’ve spoken to Professor Snape about it, and you should be able to enter the class after Hallowe’en.”   
  
   Harry’s green eyes widened a little in surprise. Snape hadn’t told him this yet. He supposed he would in the next lesson. He was actually going to miss private lessons with the professor. He didn’t like the thought of having to do Potions with a class anymore.   
   “Oh, right… okay, that sounds great. Thanks for telling me, Professor,” he said, trying to swallow his disappointment. Apparently he didn’t do a very good job at it.  
  
   “Is there something wrong, Mister Potter?”   
  
   “No, it’s just… I’ve kind of enjoyed the silence while learning,” he confessed awkwardly. Why did she have to ask?   
  
   “Yes, I suppose going into a class might be difficult again,” said the witch. “But I’m sure Professor Snape will be keeping a close eye on you.”  
  
   Harry had no idea what that meant, but he knew what he _wanted_ it to mean. Maybe Professor McGonagall knew something he didn’t. Or could at least help him with understanding Snape’s actions.   
   “Headmistress?” he questioned, feeling his blood attempting to crawl in his cheeks. He fought it the best he could and managed to subdue his blush this time.   
  
   McGonagall stood up straight, her arms in front of her. “Well, isn’t it obvious that Professor Snape has been taking very good care of you in classes?” she said with a very professional gaze over her glasses. “I hardly think he would want all of his hard work going to waste.”   
  
   “Of course,” said Harry, giving a weak smile. It was always for his own personal gain, wasn’t it? Harry could have rolled his eyes, but he didn’t want to give anything away in front of the Headmistress of Hogwarts.   
   “I was wondering if I could go into your office later on? To speak to Dumbledore…” he said next, which seemed to surprise her. “If that’s alright with you, Professor? I don’t want to get in your way.”  
  
   Minerva McGonagall put her hand up, shaking her head. “It’s quite alright, Potter. You have my permission. I think your former Headmaster would very much like a visit from you after all this time. I will give you the password after dinner for you to enter. Right now, it’s time to eat, so off you trot.”   
  
   Harry didn’t hesitate to enter the Great Hall for dinner and he took his usual seat across from Ron and Hermione. He even stole a quick glance up at the High Table just to check out the Potions master.   
   He’d gotten a haircut. Well, not much of one, but it wasn’t as long as it had been growing and it was just above his shoulders once more, feathery chopped and light. He liked it that way. It looked nice on him, and it made him look younger as well. Something that Harry really liked.  
   It may have been a longshot, but he was certainly going to compliment Snape on it when they had their next tutoring lesson. He wondered if anyone ever complimented Snape. Probably not. He’d never really known the man to be open for them. Maybe he’d just have to test that theory.   
  
*****   
   After dinner, as promised, Professor McGonagall allowed Harry into her office where he could speak to the portrait of Dumbledore that sat up on the wall.  
   He had walked in slowly, looking around the room. He could tell it hadn’t changed much. Luckily for him, Severus Snape’s portrait was nowhere to be seen. Harry had insisted when he was recovering in the hospital wing that his portrait should be up here, in case he didn’t wake up. He may have abandoned his post at Hogwarts, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t worthy of being on the wall. Apparently Snape had declined the offer, though, and McGonagall obliged his wishes.   
   This was good for Harry right now, considering it would have been strange for Snape’s portrait to hear what he was going to talk to Dumbledore about: Severus Snape.   
   “Professor…” Harry said, looking at the portrait. Dumbledore didn’t at all seem surprised to see him here; instead, he just smiled, peering over those half-moon glasses of his. “I would have come earlier… I just… Well, school’s been busy,” he laughed, though smiling as he finally got to see Dumbledore again.  
   The last time he’d seen him was in his afterlife experience—whatever that had been. He’d asked Dumbledore if it had been real, but Dumbledore didn’t answer him directly. He had a feeling it was, though. He knew it had to be. Dumbledore had waited for him.  
   When school had come to a halt, he just didn’t want to intrude. Plus, he was very emotional over the whole experience. He didn’t wish for Dumbledore to see him like that. But he was ready now.  
  
   “Ahh, Harry, my boy,” said the wizard in the portrait, “I’ve been hearing about you from a few of the professors who have come up here to visit me. It’s wonderful knowing that even though my body is gone, people still seek advice from a portrait. Funny almost.”   
  
   Harry couldn’t really see the humour in it, but he realised Dumbledore hadn’t lost his touch and he smiled once more.   
   “I hope it’s nothing bad…” he questioned, Dumbledore smiling at him.   
  
   “Oh no, Harry, nothing bad,” Dumbledore’s voice drifted calmly through the office and he rested back in his chair that was in the portrait.   
  
   There was something in Dumbledore’s voice that made Harry uneasy, just the way McGonagall had, but he took a seat in the chair that was behind the desk.   
   “Did you know that I wasn’t going to die, Professor? The night I… saw you when the Horcrux was destroyed in me? I saw… things,” he said, not knowing if Snape had been here at all. He’d seen Snape’s memories, though, and not even Snape knew if Harry would live through it. He’d made it quite clear that he didn’t approve of raising him like a ‘pig for slaughter’.   
  
   Dumbledore looked curiously over to the boy. “You’ve seen Severus’ memories,” he said knowingly. Of course, he’d told Severus that the boy would need to know, and Severus had told him that Harry had seen his memories after he’d healed. He wasn’t surprised Harry would ask him of this.  
   “To be perfectly honestly, Harry… I wasn’t certain it would work at all,” he said gently. “I knew the Horcrux in you would die, and I assumed that when Voldemort had attacked you, and you were willing, that only the part of Voldemort’s soul that was latched onto you would die, but not you, yourself.”   
  
   “So… King’s Cross? It was real?” asked Harry. It made him a little annoyed that Dumbledore didn’t know, but he was here now. None of it really mattered anymore.    
  
   Dumbledore smiled once more. “Many things that happen in our heads are real, Harry. Feelings, dreams… Sometimes our dreams even show us what we deeply desire,” he said softly, looking at the boy.  
  
   Harry swallowed, looking away for a moment. He had a feeling Dumbledore wasn’t talking about King’s Cross anymore but his own dreams that he’d been having for the last few months now. Even as a portrait, Dumbledore still knew things others couldn’t possibly.   
  
   “Tell me, Harry, how has your Potions lessons been going?”  
  
   Nothing slipped past Dumbledore. “Fine, I suppose.”   
  
   “You and Professor Snape getting along well, then?”  
  
   Harry didn’t know where this was going, and part of him didn’t want to continue. Then again, this was why he’d come here. He wanted answers, and to know if what he was feeling was alright. At least he knew Dumbledore wouldn’t judge him. He never had. Used him, kept secrets from him, yes. But he’d never judged him.   
   “I’d like to hope we are…” he said with a fading smile, though feeling his cheeks warm. “I mean, it’s Professor Snape, I didn’t expect us to be friends or anything-,”  
  
   “But you would like that, wouldn’t you, Harry? To be friends,” Dumbledore looked over his glasses closely as the boy fell silent, “Maybe even more than friends?”   
  
   Harry sighed, thinking of Professor Snape and unable to stop his thoughts from going to his tongue. “I thought it would have gone away, Professor. I mean… it’s not exactly like me and Professor Snape really get along. He hates me!” he stated.   
   “But it’s just getting stronger. Now I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s stupid, and I’m sure it’s just me being a teenager, but… I can’t help it. God… he’s… a guy… ”   
   He felt so awkward trying to talk about something like this to Dumbledore, but why bother hide it anymore? Dumbledore could read him like a book, and at least he could give him advice Hermione wasn’t going to or might not know. He didn’t even want to think about the fact that Snape was a man.  
  
   A low chuckle came from Dumbledore. “Ahhh… to be young and in love,” he said rather dreamily.  
  
   Harry felt even more awkward at the word ‘love’. Love? Surely he wasn’t in _love_ with Professor Snape. He was just crushing on him very badly! But love? A man? A teacher? Even if it had been weeks now, he just didn’t want to admit it! No, he wasn’t in love with Severus Snape.   
   “Well, it’s not like it’s going to go anywhere, anyway,” he muttered in a rather disappointed tone. “Professor Snape’s not like that… He’d never admit to it even if he did. Plus… he loved my mother. I’m nothing like her, just a constant reminder of my father, James, and how much he picked on Professor Snape as a kid. He’d never like me. He likes girls…”   
  
   Albus Dumbledore shook his head gently. “There is more to Severus Snape than you know, Harry,” he said with a twinkle in his sparkling blue eyes. “Professor Snape may be stone-cold when he walks the corridors of Hogwarts, but he is more than capable of loving, laughing, and even cracking a joke every once in a while in the staff room.”  
  
   Harry couldn’t even imagine a joke coming from Snape. Even a smile. A smirk because he said something witty, yes, but a genuine smile? He bet it would have looked nicer than his usual stern expression.  
  
   “Have you thought about asking him?”  
  
   What!? Asking him!? Snape!? Harry shuddered at the thought, a chill going down his spine. You couldn’t just _ask_ Snape a question and expect a simple or polite answer back. The professor would probably berate him for asking something like that!   
   “You’ve got to be kidding me, sir…” Harry said flatly. “Professor Snape… we’re talking about the Head of Slytherin, you know, former Death Eater, Severus Snape? You honestly think just asking him would do anything? He’d never want to see me again! And he’d surely kick me out of Potions classes… I need that for it I want to be an Auror.”   
  
   “Harry, if there is one thing you mustn’t say around Professor Snape is that he was a Death Eater,” said Dumbledore, despite the fact he’d made sure Severus would know to keep him loyal. However, he knew very well that that would not score brownie points with Harry.  
   “Professor Snape is well aware of his previous actions, and it would not be wise to bring them up if you wish for him to become friendlier with you. He spent his life trying to gain redemption for what he has done to your family, particularly your mother.”   
  
   Of course. Because the only thing that Snape ever cared about was his mum. Harry actually felt a rotten pang of jealousy hit his gut. It didn’t bother Harry to know that Snape had once loved his mother, but it did bother him when it was mentioned as it reminded him that Snape still could love her (and not like him in return). It also reminded him that the man could have been his father, and he didn’t like that reminder at all. That just made him confused and left him feeling as if his feelings for Snape were wrong.   
   “Yes, because he loved her, I know…” said the boy rather softly.   
  
   Sensing Harry’s disappointment, Dumbledore chuckled lightly. “My boy, Severus cares more for you than you may realise,” he easily let slip. “He was oddly obvious when he realised what you must do for Voldemort’s defeat.”   
  
   Harry looked up, both confused and hopeful. “He hardly acts like it, sir.” He still felt awfully awkward about discussing this, but at least Dumbledore seemed more than pleased about it. Had this been one of his plans from the start? To get Snape and Potter together at last, even if it wasn’t Lily (despite her name change)?    
   But Snape had _killed_ Dumbledore. He knew it wasn’t exactly Snape’s fault, and Dumbledore had asked for it, but still! He remembered when it had happened, and the sheer _rage_ that went through him. He now understood why Snape didn’t attack him or fight back. He merely blocked every spell he sent his way. But he’d just been protecting him for Voldemort to get him. It didn’t mean Snape had liked him or cared for him in any minute way.  
   Argh, it was all so confusing! He just wanted to know if Snape liked him or not. How the hell did it comes to this? Things were so much simpler when Snape was taking points from him and giving him horrible detentions with Filch.    
  
   “Hmm,” the former Headmaster mused knowingly, looking off in the distance of his own painting.   
  
   Harry didn’t quite know what Dumbledore was thinking, but he could tell the man knew something that he didn’t. He stood up from his seat and walked over to the portrait on the wall.  
   “Professor… is there something I don’t know about Professor Snape that you’re not telling me?” He could feel his heart beginning to pound once more in his chest, and he was very much hoping that Dumbledore would tell him that Snape felt the same way—he wished!   
  
   Putting his hands together, Dumbledore still didn’t face Harry, but he did face the door when it whipped open.  
  
   “Headmis…tress,” Snape stopped in his tracks as he saw Potter standing in the room next to Dumbledore’s portrait. He stood up straight. “I will return at a more appropriate time.”  
  
   “Nonsense, my boy,” Dumbledore said enthusiastically as he waved his hand in for Severus to come on in. The man was hesitant and simply stood in the doorway.   
  
   “Albus, I was merely here to request the Headmistress, I hardly have time to…” He looked at Potter before putting his hands in front of him, fingers intertwining. “As I said, I shall come back at a more appropriate time.”   
  
   “I insist you stay and give me some company, Severus,” Dumbledore said, his eyes piercing the dark ones across the room. “It’s not often us portraits get company, you know.”  
  
   Severus’ hands fell, but he moved reluctantly into the room, closing the door behind him. He was still very much loyal to Dumbledore. After having killed the man, the least he could do was pay his dues to the portrait’s wishes.  
    _’Damn old bastard’_. He knew what he was doing. After telling Dumbledore about the odd feelings he had for Potter, he knew the man was just trying to get them in the same room together. Both he and McGonagall. They were plotting against him. He swore it.  
    _’It’s nothing like that, the old git just wants some company. You owe it to him since you murdered him…’_ Not that Dumbledore hadn’t ordered him to do it or anything.    
  
   “Harry was just telling me about your Potions lessons. It’s marvellous seeing two great wizards working together.”  
  
   Harry felt himself blush and he quickly glanced to see Snape’s reaction. The man was, as usual, impossible to read. Severus Snape was _always_ impossible to read, unless he was very angry about something Harry had done.   
  
    _’Oh great, they were talking about me. I can only imagine how wonderful that would have been.’_    
   “Indeed, Potter has been showing… exemplary results,” said Snape, looking at the boy for a moment, keeping his annoyance and curiosity to himself. Why the hell would they be speaking of him? Right, Dumbledore was probably asking how much Potter hated the lessons. Well, maybe if McGonagall hadn’t forced it upon them, then they wouldn’t be in this situation. Not that Severus hated it or anything—although he’d never admit that.   
  
   “Only exemplary?” Dumbledore said accusingly. “If he’s anything like his mother, Severus, you might want to watch out. Young Potter could have you running.”  
  
   Snape seemed to sneer at the thought and Harry felt another burning churn of jealousy smack the pit of his stomach.   
   The two of them shared a heated glance before Harry was unable to stop himself from saying, “I doubt it. From what I’ve heard, I’m nothing like my mother.” Snape would always hold that against him.   
  
   Both Severus and Dumbledore looked at the boy. “What’s got your wand in a knot, Potter?” sneered Snape, unable to hold his own tongue at the mention of Lily. He’d loved her, yes, but somehow it all seemed to be in the past now that he had this odd pull towards Harry. And he didn’t appreciate the condescending tone in Potter’s voice.   
   For years he’d not given up on his love. How could he? It was because of him that she was dead. But recently his thoughts had been going elsewhere. To the young man that was standing in the room with him. It actually hurt to see Harry getting so sensitive about the comparison to his mother. Snape had stopped talking about James for a while now. Clearly Potter hadn’t noticed, which was fine with him—so he told himself. It wasn’t like he was going to let Potter’s temper tantrum get to him…   
  
   “What do you care?” snapped Harry, folding his arms.   
  
   “Don’t take that tone with me, Potter,” retorted the Potions master coolly.   
  
   “Why, does it remind you too much of James?”   
  
   Dumbledore just silently sat watching, and Snape felt himself getting angry at the mention of James Potter. It wasn’t that at all, it was common fucking respect! Potter, no matter his feelings, was a student and would not act as if he were his superior.    
   “You are going to allow this, Albus?” hissed Severus, looking at the portrait for some kind of assistance. It wasn’t that he couldn’t hold his own in a fight—actually, he’d been pretty good at holding himself in fights since his years in Hogwarts (no thanks to James Potter and his friends). But he didn’t care who was talking back to him, they shouldn’t be! He was a professor and Potter was a student.   
  
   Dumbledore just shrugged. “I’m afraid I have little power now, Severus. Maybe the boy has a point.” He received an awful glare from Snape and he chuckled. “Then again, maybe Harry’s actions are due to something else? Maybe certain feelings about something he can’t quite speak of yet…?”   
  
   Harry seemed mortified as he looked at the portrait on the wall. “Professor!”   
  
   “Don’t worry, Potter, I have no intention of finding out about your adolescent behaviour,” Snape made clear.      
  
   “Why? Because you don’t care!? Because I’m not Lily!?” Harry yelled, shocked at himself for getting so angry over it. But he couldn’t _stand_ the man right now! His anger and jealousy was making him very uncontrollable, and he could feel his magic beginning to grow in the room. It was raw and very heated. Harry wasn’t known for keeping his outbursts in. Especially when he’d come to Hogwarts.  
  
   At the second mention of Lily, Severus just looked at the boy. Usually he would look at the options he had to win or get out of an argument; however, nothing seemed to come to mind. He just stared at him, astounded that Lily had anything to do with this. Had the boy gone bloody-well mad!?   
  
   “I forgot how cruel Death Eaters could be,” Harry hissed, nudging past Snape and hitting him hard in the shoulder (what he could reach) before he ran from the room.   
  
   Snape steadied himself, whipping around to face the portrait of Albus Dumbledore. “What the bloody hell was that about!?” he demanded, pretending he didn’t hear the remark about him being a Death Eater.  
   Subconsciously, he took a hold of his left arm and rubbed it a little. He pretended that it didn’t hurt hearing that from Harry’s lips, but it had. He was quite used to being picked on, though. He’d learnt the hard way as a child. Still, he wasn’t expecting such a low blow from Potter considering they’d been getting along for the last few weeks—or so he’d thought.  
  
   Albus lifted a curious brow. “Boys, Severus. You never know what’s going on in their heads. Or maybe you do?”  
  
   Snape gave an aggravated look to the former Headmaster of Hogwarts. “Will you ever give me a straightforward answer, Albus?”   
  
   The old wizard leant back in his chair and gave an enthusiastic smile. “Perhaps if you’d asked Harry, he may have told you.”   
  
   Ask Potter? Snape scoffed. He _had_ asked! Well, maybe not in the nicest of ways, but he’d still asked! Why would he even care about Potter’s feelings? What was he doing up here in the first place? It meant little to him.  
   But then why was it bugging him so much? He frowned, looking at Albus. “I hardly think Potter would answer me truthfully, Albus. The boy has a knack for lying.” Still, why the hell go off at him? He hadn’t done anything! He’d come in here seeking McGonagall. Damn Dumbledore and asking him to stay. Fat lot of good that did! Now he was being called a bloody Death Eater.   
  
   “You’ll never know if you never try, Severus,” said the old wizard. “Now, I think I might go looking for some sweets. I heard the portraits in the Ravenclaw House have got quite a nice collection.”  
  
   Standing there, Snape watched as Dumbledore disappeared from his portrait, his arms falling by his side. Well, Minerva wasn’t even here so there wasn’t much point in staying. He didn’t much feel like waiting, anyway. He was quite annoyed at the moment.  
   He stood there for a moment, feeling rather strange about everything that had gone on. Did Potter seriously think he was a Death Eater? Surely not, considering Harry had saved his life, not to mention the fact that he’d risked his life time after time for the boy.   
   He felt irritated, and he swiftly turned and left, heading back down the stairs. The hallways were beginning to die down, which meant he could make it down the corridors as quickly as possible. So quickly that he ended up spotting Potter half way down.   
   He slowed down a little, wondering if he should question what the hell had gone on with him in the Headmistress’ office. Potter had been extremely angry over something but he had no idea what it was. How could he? It wasn’t like Potter told him. Instead, he was chucking a teenage temper tantrum over something probably highly insignificant.  
   Either way, he didn’t appreciate the tone Potter had used, nor did he appreciate how snarky he had been. He should have taken off points and given the boy a detention while he had the chance. Doing it now just seemed petty. He’d make up for it next time.  
   At the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d done something wrong. They’d been doing quite well the last few weeks—despite the whole incident where he was forced to see Harry as a sexual being in their second tutoring lesson. But Potter didn’t seem to have an issue with it at all! Not that he knew of, anyway.  
   What if he did know? What if that was what all of that was about? No, he was overthinking now, and that was just dangerous. He supposed he could always just used Legilimency.    
    _‘Merlin, get a grip, Severus,’_ he told himself. _’The boy’s just being a broody teenager. So what? It probably has nothing to even do with you.’_ But there was something inside him urging him to find out, and so he strode down the corridor.  
   “Potter,” he said, it coming out probably much harsher than he wanted it to. It got the boy’s attention, though. However, Harry didn’t stop; he kept moving, gaining speed. Severus didn’t like that, so he grabbed the boy by the shoulder and spun him around fiercely.  
  
   Harry hissed, throwing his arm away from the tight grip. “Don’t touch me!” he yelled heatedly. “I don’t want a filthy Death Eater anywhere near me!” He knew he was overreacting, but damnit, he was angry! He just couldn’t keep it back. Not like Snape could. Stupid Snape! Always being so damn difficult to read!   
  
   Some of the students in the corridor stopped at the scene, and Snape’s brow furrowed deeply into a scowl. One; he wouldn’t have Potter talking like that, and two; he wasn’t about to let Potter get _away_ with it in front of other students.  
   “Ten points from Gryffindor, now come here, you stupid boy!” he jeered, grabbing Harry’s arm and ripping him from the corridor. Harry tried to protest, but Snape was stronger and tossed him across the room when they’d reached his office. Fawkes gave a surprised squawk at the entrance, but only observed.   
   “It is one thing to say that in the presence of Albus Dumbledore, but I will _not_ have you throwing around things like that in the corridors for other students to hear!” he made clear, Harry rubbing his arm to where he’d grabbed him.  
  
   “Well, it’s the truth!” Harry retorted, his eyes angry as he looked at the man across from him. Alright, he was overreacting, but he was angry at Snape. His hormones were all over the place right now, and as much as he had a crush on the man, he didn’t realise how angry it would make him to think that Snape had feelings for someone else. Someone who was dead. And that someone being his mother. It just seemed like such a waste of time when he was right here! Now!   
  
   Snape wanted to backhand the boy, but his kept his hands to himself, even if he was beyond royally pissed off. He completely ignored the bird in the room as Fawkes seemed to get restless on his perch.  
   “I risked my life to protect you, you arrogant little sod,” Snape spat. He usually wouldn’t swear in front of a student, or even a teacher here at Hogwarts, but he was just as angry as Harry was right now, and the term slipped quite easily from his tongue.   
  
   “No, you risked it because you wanted to pay her back! Because you ratted them out! My parents! Me!” Harry yelled. “You didn’t care for anyone but your own selfish needs! And when you ruined your friendship with her, you became a coward and turned to Voldemort!”  
   Grabbing his wand from his pocket without even thinking, he aimed it at the other, Snape just looking at him. Was there a hint of fear in those dark eyes? Harry didn’t know, but part of him wanted there to be.   
   Another part of him was asking what the hell he was doing! He couldn’t attack a teacher! He’d already attacked Snape before, and the man actually stood up for him and said it hadn’t been his fault! Why the hell was Snape so damn difficult to read!? His actions just contradicted each other more and more. Did he damn well care for him or not!?  
  
   “Potter…” Severus started, his eyes on the furious green ones, his hands staying by his side. He showed no sign of fear, but he’d be a fool to not know just how powerful Harry Potter was and could be. Even with the Dark Lord gone.   
   He watched as those glassy green eyes glistened, Harry clearly on the verge of tears. He had no idea what had gotten into the boy, but he figured the last year or so had been very stressful on him. Finally it must have all been coming out. On him.   
   Just great.   
  
   “No!” Harry yelled, his face going red with his own embarrassment to his actions as well as his own anger. The magic inside of him felt almost uncontrollable, and he still aimed his wand at the professor, surprised nothing bad had actually happened yet.  
   “I thought that you were a good man! I hated you when I first came here and then seeing what you did for me, I…” Harry stopped, going a deep shade of red as he realised what he was going to say. He heard a noise come from Fawkes, but he ignored him.   
  
   Snape just stared at him. “Well, you may as well say it now, Potter. You’ve already called me a Death Eater, told me that you hate me. What else could you possibly have to insult me with?” he drawled, despite the fact that Harry’s wand was still on him.  
   The boy wouldn’t do anything, and Snape moved, folding his arms. Fawkes would intervene before Harry actually did something. The bird was loyal to him, after all.   
   “Your father used to call me things, too. I’ve had my fair share, Potter. Go ahead and say what you were going to say, I doubt it’s going to change my life drastically. I must inform you, I am quite used to it by now,” he said in a rather bored manner.   
  
   Harry just glared, trying to fight the tears, but he dropped his wand and fell to his knees, covering his face. Out of all the people in the world that he had to break down in front of, why did it have to be Professor Snape? The cold hearted Dungeon Bat that he had a crush on.   
  
   As Harry fell to the floor, Snape just stood there, not knowing what to do. He could hear the boy sobbing, but he wasn’t expecting such a substantial change in action. In a moment of confusion, he actually looked at Fawkes, as if the bird could actually help him somehow. Fawkes just fluffed up and made a soft noise in the direction of Potter.  
   Mentally, Severus sighed—the cruel part in him just telling him to walk away, and yet, this was an opportunity to clear the air between them. Severus didn’t want Potter to hate him, and he’d come to realise that since the boy had saved his life. Just because he was a Slytherin didn’t mean he had no heart.   
   He looked at his options, and he chose the one he knew was right. The one that he always knew was right.  
   Approaching the boy, he lent down on one knee and awkwardly put his hand to Harry’s shoulder. The boy didn’t look up, but he soon latched onto his arm, which made him feel even more uncomfortable, shooting Fawkes an angry look as he made a noise that sounded too much like laughter.  
   Severus hadn’t had anyone touch him in such a way before. Lily was the only one that would comfort him when he was upset. He’d had his fair share of breakdowns. When Lily had died, when he’d come to Dumbledore, having to kill Dumbledore (although that one was locked away inside him still). He wasn’t expecting Harry to do the same, though.   
   For a moment, he felt more connected to the Gryffindor than he’d ever felt with anyone before. Not even Lily had cried so hard against him. She was always so brave. Standing up for him while James and Sirius threw curses and hexes at him. Even when he had called her a Mudblood, she never cried.   
   He felt himself slowly leaning into the boy’s touch, even though the warm tears dampening his sleeve made him feel strange. This was just completely new to him. Someone coming to him. Someone so emotional. He supposed it wasn’t planned, though.    
   Sure, he’d made some students cry before, but that was just because they were idiots and did something wrong. He had no time for that in his classes! But this was something completely different. A real breakdown. An emotionally imbalanced young man. An emotionally imbalanced young man that was against him, and it made him feel awful to know he was the cause of it. As much as people thought he was nothing but a sadistic Slytherin, the truth was, he absolutely hated seeing others suffer, especially students. It was a horrid nostalgia for him.     
   Maybe Minerva was right about Harry. Maybe he was taking a lot more than he could really handle. Especially after defeating the Dark Lord.   
  
   Feeling horribly embarrassed and humiliated, Harry wanted to pull back, but Professor Snape felt so warm against him. Much warmer than he looked with his pale skin and cold eyes. Some of the kids used to think he was a vampire, but considering the warmth of his body, Harry knew that wasn’t true.   
   Feeling a hand go through his messy hair, he looked up, tears streaking his cheeks to see Professor Snape looking somewhat softly down at him. His facial features were a lot younger looking when they held concern instead of being so stern. And he really did like the haircut…   
   “I’m sorry, Professor… I shouldn’t have said those things,” he mumbled, removing his glasses and wiping down his eyes with his own arm sleeve. He felt awful right now, and he could feel his face was red with embarrassment. Bloody hell, he’d just broken down in front of Snape. He felt absolutely pathetic. He didn’t even want to _look_ at the other man.   
  
   “I never said I was a hero, Potter,” Severus said, taking his arm back and looking at the dampened sleeve.   
  
   “Sorry.”  
  
   “Stop apologising. You have nothing to be sorry for,” the professor said, looking into those glassy emerald eyes. When Harry had his glasses off, they truly were like Lily’s. They were beautiful. They made him want to take Harry into his arms and tell him it was alright, but wanting to do something and actually doing it was another thing.  
   Severus was the last person in the world to be seen comforting someone else. He had little time for how others felt, especially Gryffindor’s and Harry Potter. But that wasn’t true anymore, was it? He very much liked the feeling of Harry against him like that. Well, it would have been nicer without the tears…  
   It had been a long time since he’d had human contact so… intimate before—besides the day in his classroom. But Harry had needed him, and it felt good to be needed. Even to be wanted. He was sure it was nothing, though. Harry Potter wouldn’t like a ‘filthy Death Eater’ like him.  
   Standing, he turned away from the boy, leaning a hand onto his desk. “Everything you have said about me is correct, Potter. I was a Death Eater. I did betray your parents and put them in danger. I killed them because I was selfish.” Selfish in wanting Lily for himself. Why the hell was he even coming out about this? Curse Potter!   
  
   Wiping his eyes down again, Harry put his glasses back on to see Snape had moved over to his desk. It felt odd hearing such words coming from the man’s throat. His voice was always so dark and chilling, even if it was so smooth at the same time. But now it sounded almost broken inside. Like he were a young boy again.   
   “No, you went to Dumbledore,” said Harry softly. “I saw it in your memories, so don’t even try to make out you were a terrible person. You tried to save them, I know you did. You tried to protect them, and it was Pettigrew who betrayed them. He let them in. He let Voldemort in…”   
  
   Snape turned swiftly. “I cared not for you or James, Potter! I went to Dumbledore because of Lily! Because it was her that he wanted to kill! _Her_ son! I didn’t care for your father, nor did I care for you. I requested that the Dark Lord spare Lily and only Lily. What kind of a man does that make me!?”   
  
   Harry already knew this, and that was even before he started to like Snape. Of course it upset him in ways, but it was in the past now. Snape had spent his whole life trying to redeem himself! He knew it wasn’t for him or his father, but he still did it for Lily. Snape still protected him. He couldn’t just toss that away.  
   Harry couldn’t say he was a bad man. A bad friend, maybe. But Snape had been true to his word. True to his promise, even though Dumbledore had failed in protecting Lily Potter. He’d still spied, put his life in constant danger just to protect him. Even if it was for Lily, it was still for him, too. He had heard Snape say ‘them’. It may have been Lily he wanted, but he still said to hide and protect them ‘all’.    
   About to open his mouth, the door opened to Snape’s office and Harry adjusted his glasses as he saw the Headmistress walk in. People really needed to lock their doors in this place!  
  
   “Oh… should I come back at a better time?” asked Minerva McGonagall, looking from both Severus to Harry. Harry had a red face, his eyes swollen. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been tormenting the boy, Severus. I noticed ten more points were taken…”   
  
   Snape, who had stood up straight now, just gave the witch a glare.   
  
   “No, Professor… he hasn’t been. I was just… upset,” said Harry, Snape giving him a subtle but surprised look.   
  
   McGonagall nodded. “Well, I heard you requested me, Severus. Potter, I think you should get back to your common-room. The hallways will be off limits soon. Oh, and I assume Professor Snape has told you that your next Potions lesson will be with the rest of the year?”   
  
   Though Snape had not told him this, Harry just nodded. “Yes, Professor,” he said, giving Snape a small and thankful smile as he walked by him. Snape just watched the boy.   
  
   As the door closed and Harry was gone, Severus put his hands together. “Headmistress, I apologise for that.”  
  
   “I warned you that Potter was a ticking time bomb. I’m glad you were there for him when you could be, Severus,” said the woman in her green robes, her eyes going to the damp sleeve of his coat.  
  
   Severus put his arms behind his back. “I hardly have time for teenage temper tantrums, Headmistress. I merely brought him in here so he wouldn’t create such a disturbance in the hallways.” Not to mention he had been a little brat beforehand.   
  
   “And apparently you two had gotten rather close,” said the witch, noting to the sleeve that was now behind Severus’ back. She smiled as his eyes just watched her own. Severus Snape was very good at keeping in character, but that didn’t mean Minerva didn’t see the evidence.   
  
   “He was crying, did you expect me to laugh at him?” sneered the Potions master, Fawkes protesting.   
  
   “I wouldn’t put it past you, Severus,” smirked McGonagall, getting a scowl from the man. She simply smiled, patting him on the shoulder lightly before they got down to why Severus had requested her in the first place.


	13. Hallowe'en.

Chapter Thirteen:  Hallowe’en.  
  
   Harry had ended up gathering himself in the boy’s bathroom before heading back to the Gryffindor common-room. He felt awful for having called Snape a Death Eater like that to his face and he was more than thankful that the professor didn’t actually punish him—besides the ten points from Gryffindor.  
   Snape could have given him multiple detentions, but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d actually comforted him, which had been wonderful even if it had been horribly humiliating.   
   But Snape felt amazing against him. He was soft, much softer than he would have thought him to be. And like he’d thought before, the man was actually incredibly warm. Maybe it was all the layers of clothing he wore, but even so… it had been nice. More than nice. He wished he was still there, pressed against him.   
   It was Hallowe’en Day at Hogwarts and so school lessons weren’t on today. He was thankful for that, because his head was still swimming with everything that had gone on the last few days.  
   The ghosts were flying around the castle as decorations filled the halls. Harry was used to Hallowe’en at Hogwarts by now, with all the decorations and pranks that people played on one another. It was nothing like being back at the Dursley’s. His holiday was being locked in the cupboard all day. Some prank, right?  
   Hermione and Ron had asked how his chat with Dumbledore had been, but he didn’t give too much away. Especially about Snape and how he’d snapped at him. It was rather embarrassing and childish of him. He made a note to actually properly apologise to the professor next time he saw him.   
   Sitting in the Great Hall, carved pumpkins were floating above them candles lit for the Hallowe’en feast. People were even dressed in Hallowe’en costumes, and Luna Lovegood was wearing her usual large glasses that spotted nargles.   
  
   “Hello, Harry,” said the dusty blonde headed girl with a more than happy smile on her face.  
  
   “Hi, Luna,” said Harry. Ron and Hermione weren’t here yet, something about them actually getting dressed up this year. It wasn’t exactly a Hogwarts tradition, but he figured now that Voldemort was gone, why not relax a little? And that’s what most people were doing.   
  
   “Are you enjoying this Hallowe’en? It’s a bit different from the previous ones, I must admit.” Luna’s voice was dreamy like always.   
  
   “Um… I suppose,” Harry shrugged. Even with others getting dressed up, he wasn’t participating. He didn’t have a clue what would look good on him. Plus, seeing people dressed as creatures, especially werewolves, just made him remember Lupin. It was still a little too early for him to let go.   
  
   Luna took a seat at the Gryffindor table despite her being a Ravenclaw girl. She removed her glasses to show her silvery eyes, giving Harry as light smile. “If you’re wanting to look at Professor Snape, go ahead, I won’t mind.”  
  
   Harry’s eyes immediately went to the girl sitting beside him, stunned at why she’d even say that. He knew Luna was quite straight forward with how she spoke, but how on earth did she know he was thinking about Snape? They weren’t even in the same House!   
   “W-what?” he asked, looking stunned as the girl just shrugged and smiled, “Why would you say that?”  
  
   “Well… because you like him, don’t you? I thought that would have been obvious. Oh… unless I’m wrong,” Luna said, giving the boy an apologetic look, “If that’s the case, I’m very sorry.”   
  
   Harry didn’t know what to say to that. Was it actually obvious that he liked Snape? He hadn’t even been looking at him, had he!? Or was he, he just didn’t notice? He felt himself shrink into his shoulders.   
   Luna was very good at seeing what others couldn’t, though. That’s what Harry enjoyed about the girl. She was fascinating, strange, but… in a good way. In a way where they could both understand each other.   
   “Please don’t tell anyone, Luna,” he said, not wanting to lie to his friend. “Besides, it’s not like it would ever happen. Snape’s a professor and I’m a student. Plus… Snape’s hardly the kind of guy to actually like someone back.” He was fairly sure that Lily was the only one Snape would ever love.   
  
   “I would never tell anyone anything you don’t want them to know, Harry,” Luna smiled once more. “But I don’t think that’s true. Professor Snape’s actually quite a lot like you, you know?”   
  
   Harry’s brows arched a little. “How would you know anything about Professor Snape?”   
  
   “You don’t have to be friends with someone to know what they’re like, Harry.” Luna’s facials didn’t change once; she was still looking as dreamily as ever. “You should ask him out for a drink after tonight.”  
  
   “What!?” Was she completely mental!? “Luna, no offence, but… no.”  
  
   “None taken, Harry, but… I don’t understand why you’d say no. He likes you back. He’s been watching you ever since you came into the hall. As much as he doesn’t know how to communicate nicely, he’s rather protective of you.”   
  
   Harry felt himself blush heavily.  “Where are you getting your information from?” he asked, though Luna just shrugging.   
  
   “I should get back to my table. Tell me how tonight goes, I’d like to hear it,” said the girl, putting her glasses back on and skipping over to the Ravenclaw table.   
  
   Harry just stared at his empty plate in front of him. Could Luna be right? No, it wasn’t possible. Snape was always angry with him! Always! Even when it was something small it was like a massive disappointment to him. He knew why. Because Snape expected him to be like Lily and he wasn’t. He wasn’t that great at learning. He was good at following his heart and making brave decisions, but when it came to his book smarts, he was very much like his father. He’d wing it.   
   But _asking_ Snape about it? He knew it wouldn’t work. Then again, maybe he should follow his heart on this as well. Maybe he should just go ahead and ask. Maybe not ask if Snape liked him romantically, but he could at least clear the air with the professor. Plus, he really should apologise for last night’s outburst.   
   It wasn’t long before Ron and Hermione arrived, and they’d dressed themselves up in hideous pumpkin outfits. Harry had a good laugh, and the Gryffindor table had a blast picking on them. It was all in good nature, though.   
   Soon enough, the food was spread across the tables, and Harry filled himself with Hallowe’en treats. He made sure not to eat too much just in case Snape would take him up on the offer. Wait, so he _was_ going to ask him out? Well, surely not as a date—that would just be embarrassing to ask. No, he’d make sure it was something tricky. Maybe there was a little Slytherin in him after all.   
   He did decide that it was time to tell his best friend about his feelings. He would tell him tonight, though, when they were alone. He didn’t want the whole table to find out, and he definitely didn’t want the whole _hall_ finding out. That would be even more embarrassing.   
   After they’d finished eating, Harry was able to slip through the crowd and head down to the dungeons. Not knowing the new password, he stared at the portrait for a moment before lifting a hand about to knock.   
  
   “What are you doing here, Potter? Someone slip something into your pumpkin juice?”   
  
   Harry turned around at the sight of Draco Malfoy. They hadn’t had many run ins since the school year started, which he was happy with, but Malfoy had become a lot nicer now since Voldemort was defeated. Well… nice for a Malfoy anyway.   
   “Draco,” he said softly, “I was looking for Professor Snape.”   
  
   Malfoy just looked at Harry, quirking a brow. “Why would _you_ be looking for Professor Snape?” he asked accusingly.   
  
   “Because I have Potions with him,” said Harry as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Look, Malfoy, I’m not here to start anything. Actually, I’m quite over fighting. If Snape’s not here, then I’ll just go.” He didn’t have a problem with not talking to Snape. He was beginning to think it was actually quite a bad idea. Damn Luna for talking him into this!   
  
   “Don’t think I haven’t seen you two going off into classrooms by yourselves, Potter,” said the Slytherin, “I get what he did for you, Potter, but don’t think anything of it.”   
  
   “Like I said, I have _Potion lessons_ with him. It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry, I’m not going to steal your Head of House from you. I assume your father will be hearing about this?” he asked rather sternly.   
  
   Malfoy just narrowed his eyes. No, he wouldn’t be telling his father about anything. Ever since the defeat of Voldemort, the Malfoy family hadn’t exactly been in its finest hours. His mother was very angry with his father for allowing such things to go on. And Draco himself? He was more than pleased that it was all over. He didn’t particularly wish to get into any more trouble.   
   “No,” he said, shaking his head. “As much as I hate to admit a Gryffindor saving my life, I am still grateful for what you did that day, Potter. But I can’t give you the password. It’s against school rules.”   
  
   Like Malfoy ever followed school rules. Harry just nodded, though. “Okay, fine. I’ll see you in class then.”  
   Moving past Malfoy, Harry headed back up the stairs to his own common-room. He was on the stairwell when he saw McGonagall and Snape walking towards him in head of the opposite direction.   
  
   “Potter, what are you doing here by yourself?” said McGonagall, giving the boy a worried look. “You should be in your dormitory.”   
  
   “Sorry, Professor, I was just…” Looking for Snape? Somehow with the man there it didn’t sound very good anymore. Why was it that he wanted to actually talk to Snape, but when he was face to face with him, it just seemed horrible? He was just thinking the worst now, but the reality of the situation was… this was Snape!  
   He had a full blown crush on the man, but approaching him just seemed wrong in a way. He didn’t know. Argh, things were so confusing! He was afraid of rejection, he knew that, and he always thought the worst when it came to Snape. Why did he have to like him so much? It was a nightmare sometimes!  
  
   “Yes?” came the deeper voice of the Potions master.   
  
   Harry looked at Snape for a millisecond before averting his eyes. “Nothing, sir. It doesn’t matter.”  
  
   “Well, if you’re doing nothing, Professor Snape and I were just discussing who could assist in collecting some potion ingredients. If you’re free, Mister Potter, and no one else is here, why don’t you two get down to the Forbidden Forest? Hagrid will be assisting you as well.”   
  
   Both Harry and Snape looked to the Headmistress in surprise. It was Harry who spoke first, though, “But, Professor… it’s Hallowe’en night…” As if things were different in the Forbidden Forest any other night, but still!  
  
   Snape smirked. “Scared, Potter?”  
  
   “Don’t worry about that, Potter, Professor Snape and Hagrid will be by your side. But an extra pair of hands would be very helpful.”   
   Seeing as Harry didn’t protest anymore, Minerva nodded, patting the boy on the shoulder. “I expect you all back in one piece. No fighting, and be very careful.” Her voice held a deep concern before she turned and headed to go to her own quarters for the night.  
  
   Severus looked down to the boy. This had been the first time they’d spoken since Harry had broken down. He figured the boy was probably embarrassed by the whole episode, so he didn’t mention it. Instead, he just motioned his hand for Potter to start moving, and he did so.  
  
   “So, if you don’t mind me asking, Professor, what are you searching for?”   
  
   With his robes following him, Snape took out a pouch from his coat pocket. “We will be collecting venom from the Vipera Berus, or as you might understand better, the adder.”   
  
   “Like… the snake?” Harry asked. “I didn’t realise there were normal things in the Forbidden Forest.” You’d think following spiders meant regular spiders, not giant ones!   
  
   “They are almost seven metres long, Potter, I would not call them Muggle creatures,” Snape stated rather flatly.  
  
   Harry swallowed at the thought of another giant snake. Well, it wasn’t a Basilisk, but even so… He was pretty over the whole giant snake thing by now. At least Hagrid would be there, and Snape. And so far, Snape hadn’t exactly done a bad job at keeping him protected. Personally, he wondered how Snape would take confronting a snake after his attack.  
   “Of course…” he muttered, following the professor as they headed down to Hagrid’s new cabin. Snape put up a _Lumos_ spell at the end of his wand so they could see where they were going, but he didn’t speak to the boy.   
   Making their way down the stone steps, Harry remembered when the cabin had been blown up. But that wasn’t what he remembered about the scene. He remembered when he had tried to attack Snape with his own spell. He now understood why Snape hadn’t attacked back and simply walked away. Well… then there was also Buckbeak who had chased him off.  
   “Professor…” he said, Snape staying silent as ever as they walked. He almost had to jog to keep up to the man, “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.”  
  
   Snape still didn’t say anything, he just continued walking until he felt something tug him back, forcing him to stop. Harry’s grip wasn’t forceful, but it was asking him to stop, so he did.   
   “Potter-,”  
  
   “No, please listen to me,” Harry urged, “I called you a horrible thing… I should have never said that to you. Not after all you’ve done for me… That’s like saying Hermione is a…”  
  
   “Don’t say it,” Snape snapped. He detested the word ‘Mudblood’ ever since he’d called Lily one. He hated having to sit by and not do anything when Draco tossed around the word so bloody freely. But if he said anything about it, it would have been clear he didn’t agree with the Dark Lord’s views.   
  
   “You really loved her, didn’t you?”  
  
   This was not a conversation Severus wished to have with Harry at all. As awkward as it was, considering he had feelings for the boy (even though he was attempting to close them off), it was the boy’s _mother!_ for Merlin’s sake.   
   “I have no desire to discuss such things with you, Potter. Come along before I leave you behind. Your hands would be quite useful tonight.” He stiffened as he realised how horrid that could have sounded if taken the wrong way, and he saw Harry look at him oddly. He just quickly turned and continued down to Hagrid’s.  
  
   Following Snape, Harry didn’t continue talking, but he did smile at the awkward tension that went between them. As awkward as it was, it was a simple pleasure in Harry’s mind to what Snape could have meant by the use of his hands.   
   When they reached Hagrid’s cabin, Severus knocked and the half-giant opened the door happily.   
  
   “Hullo Harry, Professor.” Hagrid had a lantern with him and Fang greeted Harry happily. “Come in, come in. Professor McGonagall tol’ me yeh were comin’ this evenin’. Though I gotta admit, I wasn’ ‘spectin’ Harry. How ‘bout a cuppa tea then, ey?”  
  
   “Apologies, Hagrid, but we don’t have time for drinks,” Severus muttered, looking up to the bushy face of Rubeus Hagrid. “I assume the Headmistress has informed why we are here?”    
   
   “’O’course.  Right, let me get Fang ready.” The big black boarhound settled down after sniffing and licking Harry’s hand, Harry trying to wipe it clean. Hagrid grabbed his crossbow and gave Harry the lamp while Snape had his wand firm in his hand.   
   The three of them set into the Forest (and Fang). Hagrid was very talkative most of the way, and Harry was more than pleased to have a chat to his friend. They hadn’t had much time this year considering Hagrid was teaching and Harry’s classes were keeping him. Plus, with tutoring, he didn’t have much time between the end of class and dinner. He hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk to Hagrid besides on weekends. And most of the time Hermione kept him inside, doing his homework.   
   Snape was completely silent unless Hagrid asked him something, and Harry couldn’t help but smile. The man seemed utterly annoyed at their chitchatting, and both Hagrid and Harry decided to start doing it on purpose, just to annoy him. Snape eventually caught on, though.  
  
   “If you two don’t shut your mouths, you’re going to have more than snakes attacking you,” hissed the Slytherin.   
  
   Hagrid made a face and Harry silently laughed to himself. “How ‘ave lessons been goin’ fer yer anyway, Harry? Professor McGonagall’s bin fillin’ me in.”   
  
   Harry shrugged. “They’ve been better than I thought actually. Not bad at all.” He smiled at the thought of having private lessons with Snape. He’d actually come to enjoy them much more than he probably should. But getting to see Snape in his element by himself was something he really liked.   
  
   Behind the bushy beard, Hagrid was grinning. “She uh… also tol’ me summat else.” When Harry looked at him surprisingly, Hagrid just patted Harry rather roughly on the shoulder with his enormous hand. “So it is true, ey? Have a thing fer broody ol’ Professor Snape. Knew it was gunna happen sometime.”   
  
   “What!?” Harry asked. And how the hell did Professor McGonagall know!? Who _else_ knew!? And why weren’t they coming to him and asking before just thinking it was true!? Was he seriously that obvious? Clearly not considering Snape was still acting like a dick to him.   
  
   “Well, I mean… yer both matches in magic. Not ter mention yer both bin savin’ each other’s lives.”  
  
   Harry rolled his eyes, giving a sigh. “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” he said, but Hagrid waved a massive hand, hitting him on the shoulder again and almost knocking him to his feet.   
   “Don’t get your hopes up, Hagrid, it’s not like anything’s going to come from it. Professor Snape is insanely hard to read.”   
  
   Hagrid laughed, his eyes following the Slytherin as he walked with Fang by his side. “He’s a good professor, I’m sure he’s jus bein’ professional. Plus, Slytherin’s don’ like admittin’ ter feelin’s. Yer though’ bou’ askin’ ‘im directly?”  
  
   “Why does everyone keep saying that?” Harry mumbled. “Can you honestly imagine that ever happening?” he asked, eyes up at Hagrid as he seemed to think it over and come up with a bad conclusion. “That’s what I thought.”   
  
   “Maybe yer both jus need a little shovin’,” Hagrid said, lifting his bushy brows. “Professor, I think I saw mo’ement over there,” he said, catching Snape’s attention and pointing his lantern to the left as he’d taken it from Harry a while back.  
  
   Snape, who had his wand lit still, moved over to where Hagrid was pointing. He hushed them as there was indeed a rustle in the bushes nearby. It was a nest. A baby one wouldn’t do, though, he needed pure and strong venom. He’d have to find the mother. The thought sent shivers down his spine, to be perfectly honest. He’d tried avoiding the fact that it was a snake…  
  
   “Wa are yer needin’ this for-,”  
  
   “Hagrid,” warned Severus, the half-giant shutting up immediately. Unfortunately, his voice had gained the attention of a fully grown seven metre long adder. Severus stepped back immediately, pushing Harry away as he’s come rather close.   
  
   “Don’ kill it! It’s jus protectin’ its babies,” Hagrid called out, though his crossbow aimed at the giant snake. In preparing his crossbow, he’d managed to drop the lantern, it smashing into the hard surface of the Forest and flickering out.  
  
   Snape rolled his eyes at the compassion Hagrid held for every dangerous creature, even if they were mere inches from death, but he made sure he wouldn’t ‘harm’ the snake. He lifted his wand, but a thick tale came swooshing his way, knocking him back and causing him to hit the ground rather hard with a _thud_.  
  
   “Professor!” Harry gasped, running to grab Snape’s wand that had fallen. He ducked the hissing snake that was coming for him, but tripped over on one of the large roots that came out of the ground (and was hard to see because Hagrid had dropped the lantern and mashed it).  
   There was a hiss of pain and Harry covered the back of his head with his hands, as if preparing to die from when the Basilisk was attacking him in the Chamber of Secrets. Fear struck him hard and he froze, unable to move.  
   Soon enough, he realised that the movement was gone and a heavy _thump_ hit the ground. Shakily, he lifted his hands and turned to the side to see Hagrid had aimed his crossbow at the snake and struck it right in the neck. It wasn’t dead, though, it was asleep—breathing heavily. Hagrid must have dosed it with a strong tranquilizer.    
  
   “Tha’ should keep ‘er still fer a while,” Hagrid said with a proud look on his face before turning to see Harry on top of Professor Snape. “Ahem…”  
  
   Severus growled as Harry looked at him with an apologetic look. Immediately, he threw the boy from him and pushed himself up, ignoring the pleasurable sensation of the Gryffindor atop him. He brushed himself down, gathering himself and attempting to look braver than he had been.  
  
   “Sorry, Professor… I tripped,” said Harry, also pushing himself up. He couldn’t help but enjoy the feel of Snape up against him, though. This time, he’d landed quite hard onto the man, and it had given him quite a nice feel of the man’s body beneath him. Snape may have worn layers on his upper half, but it was all but two when it came to his lower portion.  
   Leaning down, he picked up both his and Snape’s wand, Snape snatching it from his hand. He tucked his back into his pocket, rubbing his arm that he’d fallen on. At least Snape broke the fall.   
  
   “Yer al’ight, Professor?” asked Hagrid, moving over to the fallen snake.   
  
   “Fine,” muttered Snape. He moved quickly over to the sleeping snake, making sure it was sound asleep before opening his pocket and grabbing out a few phials. “Potter, come here.”  
   Harry was almost immediately by his side, and Snape handed him the phials. Hagrid’s hands were much too large for this, which was why he needed the extra hands of a student (or a teacher, but Minerva has insisted Harry be the one when running into him).    
   He opened the snake’s mouth, and Hagrid kept it open with his larger hands. Already, the fangs were oozing with venom and Snape didn’t waste a drop, squeezing them while Harry held the phials until they were full. The fangs were quite large, which meant he had to use both hands. There was no time for hesitation, and he would _not_ let Harry see.  
   When Severus had enough to his liking, he let Harry move away as he withdrew his hands, Hagrid letting the jaw go and stepping away. “That should be enough.”   
  
   Harry handed over the now full phials with stoppers in their tops and Snape put them into the small pouch and back into his pocket.   
   “So, what exactly is this for?” he asked, Hagrid collecting the broken lantern.   
  
   “That’s none of your concern, Potter,” Snape said. “Now, before we get attacked by something far worse, Hagrid, give me that lantern and I will fix it.” With a quick repairing spell, the lantern was in one piece again and he lit it with a small _Incendio_ spell.   
  
   Harry didn’t ask again what the venom was for; he supposed it was for a potion or maybe anti-venom for bites. He couldn’t remember anyone at Hogwarts being bitten by a seven metre snake before, though. He was just glad it was over.   
   Once more, Snape lead them back, and Harry and Hagrid slowed down a little so they could talk. “I told you,” he said, Hagrid just giving a sorry look to him.   
  
   “Snape’s jus’ playin’ hard ter get,” suggested the half-giant. “Besides, he coulda done far worse when yer fell on ‘im.” Hagrid couldn’t help but give a chortle at the image.  
  
   “Hagrid, it’s not funny!” Harry hissed.  
  
   “It is a little bit, yer gotta admit,” Hagrid chuckled. “Look at it this way, Harry. Snape’s the las’ person yer gunna hear admittin’ he has feelin’s. Yer gotta work on it. Trus’ me, Harry… from wha I’ve been hearin’ from Professor McGonagall… yer got a good chance.”   
  
   Looking up, Harry felt somewhat hopeful. He couldn’t see Snape ever admitting anything, but maybe McGonagall knew something he didn’t?   
   “Has she told you something?” he asked, but their conversation was stopped short when Fang gave a sharp bark, making them look up. They’d reached the edge of the Forest, Hagrid’s hut in view.   
  
   “Jus’ know that with a little more effort, Snape’ll warm up ter yer,” Hagrid quickly whispered before the two of them reached Snape and Fang.   
  
   “Hagrid,” Snape nodded in thanks. Hagrid nodded back.  
  
   “Yer sure you can’ come in fer a cuppa?”   
  
   “It’s late Hagrid, and Mister Potter should be returning to his dormitory.”  
  
   “O’course. I’ll see yer later, Harry. Professor.”   
  
   Snape turned to Harry and ushered him away from the cabin, Harry saying a goodnight to Hagrid before they set off back to the castle.   
  
   Harry fell rather quiet as they walked back up the stone steps. He wanted to take this as an opportunity to talk to Snape, but he had a feeling no matter how hard he tried, Snape would just try and brush him off.   
   He also realised he could have actually hurt Snape when he’d fallen on him. He didn’t really check if the man had been alright. His knee had come awfully close to his crotch. And as far as he knew, wizards still hurled over in pain if they got kicked where it hurt.   
   Had Professor Snape realised he’d froze? He could have made a horrible mistake and caused them their lives if Hagrid hadn’t have been there. He could have died! He could have put them in a lot of danger.   
   “I’m sorry I fell on you,” he eventually said, Snape still watching where he was walking in the darkness. “You didn’t get hurt or anything, did you?”   
  
   “Nothing I can’t handle, Potter,” replied the Slytherin, keeping his eyes up front. He did enjoy the fact that Potter was at least asking, though. It had to show for something, right?   
  
   “I froze.”  
  
   This time, Severus stopped, stopping Harry by putting a hand onto his shoulder. “Potter, you’ve gone through many things for your age, I would have been surprised if you weren’t affected by a giant snake after taking on a Basilisk by yourself.” His voice held a certain detest for the fact that Potter had gone running into the Chamber of Secrets all by himself (even if he were with Weasley and that idiot Lockhart).   
  
   Harry’s green eyes looked to the dark ones, and for a moment, he could have sworn he saw concern glisten in them. “I could have spoken to it… I could have just asked for the venom,” he objected.   
  
   Snape raised a brow. “I assumed with the connection no longer present between you and the Dark Lord that you would no longer possess the ability to speak Parseltongue.” If he knew Harry could still talk to snakes, then that would have made things easier. Although he doubted the snake would have been willing anyway. Just because Potter could talk to snakes didn’t mean they would listen and obey him. That was just idiotic to believe.    
  
   “The language can still be learnt. I remembered as much as I could while I had the chance. I don’t know if it’s gone because of Voldemort, but I know I can still speak to snakes. Maybe I never lost it in the first place… I don’t really know, to be honest.” He hadn’t spoken to a snake in a long time.  
  
   “Even if you possess the unique gift of being able to speak Parseltongue, there is no guarantee that every snake will listen to you, Potter,” said the professor, continuing to walk, “The fact is you are out, alive and safe, and we have collected what we went in there for. There is no need to ponder on past faults.”   
  
   Harry felt himself smile lightly. “So you’re still not going to tell me what it’s for?”   
  
   “Your persistence is getting on my nerves, Potter,” said the Potions master, giving a glare to the boy as he walked beside him now instead of behind. It could have been as deadly as the basilisk’s. “But so you’ll quit asking me. As you know, the symbol for Slytherin is a snake, as well as the Dark Mark. It’s safe to say that any Death Eater out there would use a symbol like a snake to kill me. I’ve been collecting anti-venom so that won’t happen. After what happened with Nagini, I will not be risking that again.”   
  
   Harry stopped, feeling his chest sink to his bowels. Although most of the Death Eaters had been captured, there was no telling where the few remaining ones were hiding.   
   “That’s horrible…” he said, Snape turning around, “But as long as you’re at Hogwarts, surely you should be safe.”   
  
   “I have protection here, Potter, but as soon as I step back into the Muggle world, that is a different story. I have made numerous amounts of enemies by my details being released, no thanks to you, Potter.”   
  
   “You deserved to be a free man,” said Harry in surprise that Snape would blame him for his freedom. “You’d rather be locked up in Azkaban for a crime you didn’t commit!?”   
  
   “I’m sorry, Potter, but since when did you care about the man who murdered Albus Dumbledore?” Snape drawled rather sarcastically.   
  
   “I _do_ care about you actually, as much as you’re an ungrateful git!” Harry felt his face heat up in the darkness as he let that slip.   
  
   “Touching…” murmured the Slytherin, turning back around and heading back to the castle.   
  
   Harry’s eyes narrowed darkly. “Why do you make it so impossible to like you!? What are you so afraid of!? I know there’s someone good in you. The Severus Snape I saw in those memories was a _good_ man! A man who fought for what was right! Voldemort is gone now, you don’t have to pretend!”  
  
   Snape stopped once more, frost huffing from his mouth as he glowered. “Potter, get inside before I leave you out here to get eaten by werewolves,” he snapped. He turned over his shoulder to look at the boy, and he realised what he’d said as Harry went pale and rigid. He was well aware Remus was a werewolf, but he wasn’t the only bloody one out there! But he knew he’d said the wrong thing as Harry’s eyes went dark in hurt, glistening.   
   “Potter!” As Harry moved into the darkness in the opposite direction, Snape went after him, grabbing his shoulder as the boy tried to run away.  
  
   “Leave me alone! I hate you!” Harry yelled, his voice echoing over the grounds and sounding very teenage-like.  
  
   “That’s all fine and well, Potter, but you’re a student and you’re under my supervision. Now get back inside before I drag you there by your collar,” Snape ordered.  
  
   Harry struggled to get away from the man’s grip and ended up falling into the grass with a thud, Professor Snape standing over him with a less than amused facial, his arms folded.   
  
   “Are you going to stop acting like a child now?”   
  
   Harry frowned, looking up at the man dressed in black. The only reason he could see him was because of his pale skin, his wand still in his hand.   
   “I’m not a child,” he jaded, pushing himself up. He brushed himself down of the grass that stuck to him from the cold evening dew.   
  
   Snape smirked and Harry just glared at him. The anger in the boy’s eyes was almost intoxicating, and he enjoyed every part of it. Of course, hearing that the boy ‘hated’ him wasn’t exactly appealing, but he did enjoy the sight of Potter getting flustered and angry, though he wasn’t exactly pleased he’d upset him. He didn’t like the thought of him actually being hurt, but it was still amusing the way the boy acted.  
   “If you wish to look presentable, you might want to brush your hair down and remove the grass from your face before your friends ask what exactly you were doing romping around in the grass at night.”   
  
   Harry only grew angrier, and he wished he could have pushed Snape. He would have if he weren’t a professor and wouldn’t get into trouble over it. Instead, he just brushed his hair down and wiped his face.   
   He had no idea why he liked this man. But then again, something in him enjoyed when they bantered like this. It felt like Snape really enjoyed pissing him off and belittling him, but how would he enjoy it if it were turned around on him? That probably wasn’t a good idea. Snape seemed the type to enjoy being in control or at least getting a negative reaction from his actions.   
  
   The rest of the trip was silent.


	14. The Astronomy Tower.

Chapter Fourteen: The Astronomy Tower.   
  
   Harry had arrived too late to talk to Ron, and he was too bothered anyway. He wanted to yell and scream at Snape and tell him how much of an arsehole he was, but at the same time, he wanted to just… throw the man against the wall and make him fuck him.   
   His thoughts and hormones were all over the place, and he was actually thankful that Ron had already gone to bed. He was the only one up and he sat in the lounge of the common-room, the fire burning. Spells was inside with him, and he let her sit on the arm of the lounge, giving her a gentle pat. He was too angry to sleep.  
   He had no idea why Hagrid and Dumbledore—and even McGonagall—were trying to get him to keep trying with Snape. It seemed impossible! Maybe he just needed to go out and do something reckless!? No, that would just make the Head of Slytherin House angry and scowl at him—like he always did.   
   The Gryffindor in him wanted to be outrageous and brave in just telling Snape how he felt, or at least exposing it, but the shy teenage boy wanted to never speak of it again. He just wished the man would give him some kind of sign.   
   Looking over at the snowy owl, he felt Spells nibble against his fingers. He could always send Snape a letter, but that seemed silly. No, he’d just keep it to himself. Who knows, maybe the longer he kept it in, the more his feelings would just dwindle and go away.   
   He just wanted to stop thinking about it all.   
   “Come on, girl, we should get to bed. Classes start up again tomorrow,” he murmured gently to the owl, Spells hopping up onto his arm. He took her upstairs and let her onto his nightstand where she usually rested—she was definitely related to Hedwig. He opened the window for her in case she wanted to fly out before he changed into his pyjamas and went to bed.   
   His magic was itching, though, and he knew he wasn’t going to get to sleep with all of his hostile energy around him. Eventually, he decided bed wasn’t going to do anything, so he took out his father’s old cloak and headed out of Gryffindor tower.    
  
*****  
   Severus sat in the staff room of Hogwarts, Filius Flitwick reading a Charms book. When the half-goblin left, he finally felt he could relax and put his own book down. He’d had the jitters ever since he’d been in the Forest, having been faced with a snake again. He’d be lying if the thought of ever being near a snake’s fangs once more didn’t somewhat frighten him, but he had to get the venom.  
   Part of him was quite happy that he’d been knocked down and he hadn’t seen most of the snake since Harry had landed on him. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a snake since Nagini, though—although certainly the largest. It was just a fear he’d been working to overcome. He was a Slytherin, after all, the serpent was his animal. To be afraid of them just seemed stupid to him.  
   He’d got what he went for, put some into his personal store and given some to Madam Pomfrey just in case. He was grateful to his own skills in hiding his emotions, and the fact that Potter had froze and not even thought about the possibility of what could have happened to him. He couldn’t afford to put a student in danger like that, especially the boy he had been protecting all these years.    
   He wasn’t usually very talkative when it came to being in the staff room, and he knew quite well how some of the other Hogwarts staff felt about him. He wasn’t exactly the most social man, nor was he the kindest. Alas, the silence was a bit annoying, and so he ended up heading back to the dungeons to at least have the company of Fawkes.  
   The bird greeted him warmly with a flap of his wings and a loud screech. Severus walked over to the phoenix and gave him a treat before removing his outer robes and relaxing into his own chair with a book in his hands.  
   The headmistress had asked how his and Potter’s night had went, and he explained that they got what they needed. Of course, he didn’t say anything about Potter’s tantrum. He honestly had no idea what was getting into the boy lately.   
   Potter had been a shy wizard when he’d arrived at Hogwarts. He’d watched him grow into a young man who was brave enough to defeat the Dark Lord and keep his friends close by his side. Even people who were once his enemy, such as Draco, were now much kinder to him.   
   He supposed that wasn’t a bad thing, but considering the Dark Lord had been defeated, he would have thought Harry would have calmed down. He understood that he was still getting harassed by some of the other students because he was so popular, but he didn’t think the boy would act out as much as he had been.  
   Severus, of all people here, knew what it was like to be isolated and alone. He’d spent his whole life alone except for his years with Lily. She’d been his only real friends. And he’d gone and screwed that up by calling her a Mudblood because he was pissed off, embarrassed and humiliated.   
   Potter had many friends, though. Gryffindor’s weren’t exactly known to be alone. They moved around in large social groups. Quite popular groups at that. And although many Houses did stay to their own ‘kind’, Gryffindor’s were the ones who were known to mingle with other Houses without a problem—unless they were Slytherins.  
   Severus put his book down, running his fingers through his dark hair. No, it was quite clear that a Gryffindor and a Slytherin could never be together. He learnt that the hard way with Lily. He’d loved her so much, and she was such a wonderful, kind and caring friends, and his own dark nature had split them apart.   
   Why the hell did he always fall for the bloody Gryffindors!? And her _son_ of all people!?   
   Severus’ book fell to the floor with a thud as he realised what he was thinking. No, he couldn’t possibly… But Harry’s perfect green eyes, and his soft skin, his messy, rough hair…  
   “Damnit…!” he hissed, standing up. No, this couldn’t be happening! Harry Potter was the son of James, and he despised Gryffindors and their haughty behaviour. How the hell had it come to this!? Why the hell did that little prick have to save is life!? Why couldn’t it have been someone else!? Anyone else but Potter.  
   His fist hit the arm of the lounge with a thump. He knew he and Harry had been seeing much more of each other lately, but it had been forced from McGonagall. That woman…! This was all her doing! She was doing it on purpose! Because she knew he’d loved Lily. And now she was trying to make him get close with Potter and see how ‘close they were’. Argh, it pissed him off!   
   Harry Potter was _not_ Lily Evans! He never would be! But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing…   
   As Fawkes flew over to him and landed on his shoulder, he sighed but welcomed the new change of thought. At least Fawkes could get his mind off Potter. Maybe a walk would do, too. Fawkes had been inside all day, so he gathered a change of scenery might be good for him.  
   Keeping the phoenix on his shoulder, he headed up to the Astronomy Tower. Fawkes’ feathers were illuminated enough to be a lantern, so his wand stayed in his sleeve. It was dead inside the castle anyway, and he was glad he didn’t run into Filch on the way.   
   Walking to the balcony, he placed his hands there. It was the first time he’d been here since he’d recovered and the memories of Dumbledore’s murder haunted him. Those blue eyes begging him… aching inside. He knew deep down that he was doing the right thing, that he was putting Albus out of his misery and stopping Draco from becoming a criminal, but…   
  
   “Professor…?”  
  
   Turning around, Severus felt his heart thump in his chest. “Bloody hell, Potter, are you trying to give me a heart-attack!?” he hissed, looking at the boy in his Muggle pyjamas. What the hell was he doing here after hours!? He was going to get into trouble!    
  
   “Didn’t think you were that old…” Harry smiled, having lifted his cloak off. He had been here for a little over fifteen minutes before he’d heard footsteps. He would have stayed hidden if it weren’t for seeing the fiery feathers of Fawkes and who he was perched upon. He’d been angry at Snape, but… somehow at the sight of the professor, it all just evaporated.  
  
   Snape rolled his eyes, looking back over the balcony. “You’re breaking school rules, I hope you know that, Potter. I should drag you back to your common-room by your ear.”   
  
   Harry moved beside the taller wizard. “But you won’t, will you?” he asked softly, Fawkes leaning down to waddle in between them onto the balcony ledge.   
  
   Severus found himself frowning as he looked over the grounds of Hogwarts. “What makes you think that?”   
  
   Harry laughed a little, although he was rather nervous. His heart was pounding in his chest and he shivered lightly at the cold autumn breeze that came through the tower. “Because you would have done it already, sir…”   
   When Snape didn’t say anything, Harry sighed gently. “I don’t blame you for Dumbledore’s death, Professor… I know you think I do, and that night when I saw it happen… I was horrified. I was angry. I wanted to kill you,” he admitted. Not that he would have.   
   “But when I found out the truth, that Dumbledore was dying… I knew what you did you did for him and Malfoy. You killed your own friend… your mentor, because he asked you to, to save the innocence of someone like Draco Malfoy. I think Professor Dumbledore thanks you more than anyone else for what they’ve done for him.”  
  
   “Even you?” asked Snape, scoffing as he didn’t look at the boy, his hands tightening on the balcony railing. “You, who he raised to kill at the right moment? Harry Potter, the boy who defeated the Dark Lord? I highly doubt he sees my deeds as higher than yours, Potter, so don’t try and flatter me.”  
  
   Harry looked at the Slytherin. “I’m not trying to flatter you,” he said in all honesty. “If it weren’t for you protecting me for all of those years, then Dumbledore wouldn’t have even had me to defeat Voldemort.”   
   When Snape didn’t say anything else, Harry looked down at the man’s left arm. “Why don’t you ever call him ‘Voldemort’?” he asked, letting his hand smooth against Fawkes’ back.   
  
   Severus turned his head to look down at those curious green eyes. He eyed his sleeve for a moment before taking a step back from the balcony. “It was safer to refer to him as one name, Potter. I was a loyal subject to the Dark Lord and so I addressed him as my higher. Calling him by name was not considered respectful. If I had let it slip, my position may have been revealed.”   
   Looking at the boy, he frowned at seeing he was shivering. “Potter, it’s autumn, are you honestly that stupid that you didn’t bring one of your oversized jackets?”   
  
   Harry shrugged. “To be honest, I wasn’t really thinking…” He rubbed his arms a little in the chill of the autumn weather, the wind making his hair prickle, “And I don’t want to go back yet, I can’t sleep.”   
  
   When did Gryffindor’s ever think? Severus frowned to himself. “I have potions that can aid with that.”  
  
   “No, I don’t want to sleep… I want to stay here,” said Harry, his hand still running up against Fawkes’ warm back. “Can you stay with me? So… I don’t get into trouble.”   
  
   Severus just stared at the boy. Potter wanted him to stay with him? He swallowed gently, trying to hide his discomfort, but when Fawkes made a happy chirp, he decided the bird could be his scapegoat.    
   “Fine,” he muttered in Fawkes’ direction before turning back to Harry, “but I will not be the cause of you falling ill,” he added, unbuttoning his coat. He slipped it off and handed it to Harry, exposing the white undershirt and black cravat that was beneath.   
  
   Harry smiled, enjoying the sight of Professor Snape without his coat on. If only more would come off.   
   “Thank you,” he said softly, pulling the coat over his shoulders. Of course, it was too large for him, but he was able to wrap himself up in it, and he was used to oversized clothes.   
   “You aren’t going to get cold, are you?”  
  
   “No,” Snape informed, a vest still over his white shirt. He had another layer to still be warmer than Harry in his thin pyjamas. He should have brought his robes, though. It could have helped. He’d rather the boy didn’t disappear under the cloak to try and get warm.   
  
   Harry looked back over the balcony, putting his hands into the coat pockets. Snape must have emptied them, because there was nothing inside them now. Not even lint. He was very clean, despite the greasy hair from standing over cauldrons every day.   
   “She should have forgiven you…” he said softly, Fawkes still beside him. The phoenix began to preen his feathers gently in the moonlight. “It was one mistake… just one-,”  
  
   “An irreversible one, Potter, and one that you do not need to speak of,” Snape spat.   
  
   Harry turned over his shoulder, looking at the wizard as he had his hands in his pants pockets. “I saw you, Professor, when I was in your memories. I saw how sorry you were. I saw how much she meant to you, and how sincere you were. She should have forgiven you, especially considering the circumstances.”  
   Snape had been so young in those memories. Even younger than Harry was now. His hair had been longer, his face much thinner. For a moment, he couldn’t believe that Snape was apologising for something. Not the Snape he’d known at Hogwarts as a professor. He was always so cruel. But it wasn’t true. It was just a mask so no one would know. Snape was capable of apologising. Of being somewhat kind. Maybe not out in the open, but Harry knew it was there inside him. He’d just got the shit end of the stick in life. Could he blame him for turning out so bitter? Everything he did bit him on the arse, and he’d become a slave to two masters—Albus and Dumbledore.   
  
   Severus really didn’t want to talk about his past right now, especially when it involved Lily Evans. He stayed perfectly quiet, looking away from the boy, his locks of hair moving against his face from the cool breeze.   
  
   “I know you think I’m more like my father… but I wish you wouldn’t. I was mortified and angry when I saw what he and Sirius did to you growing up. I love my father, even though I don’t really remember him. But I’m not proud of what he put you through, and I wish you wouldn’t see me like that,” Harry said into the night. “Despite the fact that I may look like him on the outside… I think I’ve always felt more like my mother in many ways. Even if I never knew them…”   
  
   When Harry fell silent, Severus looked back at the young man, his green eyes on him. “Your father was-,”  
  
   “I know… a jerk,” said Harry.  
  
   “That was not what I was going to say,” said Snape, irritated that Harry had cut in. The boy seemed surprised, but he continued. “Your father was, yes… a cruel man in his time, but your mother didn’t just break off our friendship because I called her such a foul thing. I had shown a deep interest in the Dark Arts and become friends with a group of Slytherins, which, you know by now, became Death Eaters.”   
  
   “But you weren’t like them,” Harry protested. “You came back for her… You tried to protect them. Even my father.”  
  
   “I thought we already established that I only asked for Lily’s life to be spared,” said Severus rather irritably. “Your Gryffindor antics will not turn the situation to be heroic. It was anything but.”  
  
   “That’s a lie,” said Harry, his expression stern as he turned around and looked at the professor. Damn, he looked really good in the moonlight, his hair drifting with the breeze.   
   Harry swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks go warm in the cold night as he looked back away. “I don’t care what you say, and I don’t care what you think. You’re a good man. You’ve made mistakes, but so has everyone. You made up for them. Stop punishing yourself over it. I saw those memories. You said ‘them’. Not just her! But us as well! So you may have wanted my mother more, but that didn’t stop you from still trying to save us as well.”   
  
   Stop punishing himself over it? Severus’ whole life was miserable because of his own actions. He didn’t _have_ to call Lily a Mudblood. He didn’t _have_ to join the Death Eaters, and he certainly didn’t _have_ to tell the Dark Lord about the half of the Prophecy he’d heard. He did. He chose to do all of those things. There wouldn’t be a day in his future where he didn’t loathe himself for what he had done.    
   He watched Harry carefully, though, and for a moment the young man was right. He was much more like his mother than he was James. He’d grown up and matured a lot since his first time here at Hogwarts, and now, in the moonlight, saying all of this, he certainly did resemble much of his mother. But that didn’t excuse anything.   
  
   “I’m just saying, sir,” Harry continued, looking back up, “that if I were her… I would have forgiven you. I know I can’t do it on her behalf, but if it means anything… I am sorry for what happened.”   
  
   Sorry wasn’t going to do anything now, but Severus nodded gently, the wind picking up. He saw Harry shudder as the wind pushed him from the heavy coat, and he shook his head, approaching the younger wizard.  
   “You’re going to get ill,” he said, pulling the coat tight at the front and doing up some of the buttons in the middle. When he noticed Harry was watching him, he awkwardly took a step back, turning back to the balcony.   
   The touch of the young wizard was very much intoxicating, and he wanted more, which was exactly why he stepped away. Those perfect eyes, his strong magic that was clinging onto his own lonely magic. He couldn’t. He swore to protect Harry, and he wasn’t doing that by being with him. It would cause more chaos than anything else.   
  
   Harry couldn’t hold his smile back, and he was disappointed when Professor Snape turned away. He had liked getting to see him up so close, actually being able to see the slithers of brown in the man’s eyes rather than just black from so far away.   
   “Thank you,” he whispered, “for not getting me into trouble. You could have sent me to Professor McGonagall or taken points and given me detention, but you didn’t. So thank you.”   
  
   Severus just smirked a little. “You assume I’m not going to do any of those things?”   
  
   Harry’s lips parted as he looked at the Slytherin, but he knew he was just kidding. Huh… a joke? From Severus Snape? “Well, I suppose you could, but… who would want detention with me? My fan-club might get in your way.”  
  
   Snape held back a chuckle. “I wouldn’t say I’d detest the idea, Potter. I think I’ve become quite fond…” He cleared his throat as he realised in a moment of sentiment that he may let something uncomfortable slip. Curse Potter and their magic! No, he wouldn’t let that happen!    
  
   “Yes, Professor…?” Harry asked hopefully, his eyes widening in anticipation as he watched the side of Snape’s face.   
  
   “I should escort you back to Gryffindor Tower, Potter, it is quite after hours,” the Potions master stated, going back to stern professor within a millisecond.   
  
   But Harry wouldn’t have it. And in a moment of hope and awkwardness, he blurted out, “I like you, Professor.”   
  
   Snape froze, just staring at the boy. “Erm… well, Potter, that’s honest of you, but that will not change the fact that if you wish to pass your exams this year that it is imperative that you get a good amount of hours sleep.”   
  
   Harry blushed, looking down. “N-no… I mean… I like-like you.”   
  
   Like-like? What the hell kind of teenage babble was that? Snape’s brow crawled upwards as he examined the boy. Then it struck him, making his body stiffen.   
   His hands fell down to his sides, and he didn’t know what to say. He was rendered speechless. He’d never had anyone tell him that before, and he certainly wasn’t expecting Potter so say something like that. Of all people. The wizard he had these odd feelings for.  
   Even if he did have feelings for the Gryffindor, he could hardly _act_ on them! Harry was a student, and he was a professor! It was against the rules! No, he had to be professional about this and push it back like any sane person would. Slytherin or not.    
   “Potter…” he started, Harry looking up at him. He inwardly frowned as the boy seemed completely embarrassed by his outburst, not to mention the humiliation he was probably expecting. He knew all too well what rejection felt like.   
  
   “I’m sorry, that came out wrong… I just meant that… I like your hair cut,” Harry tried to cover. It was too late, though, and he shrank into the warm coat that was around him, the scent of caldrons against it.   
  
   The Potions master may not have been the nicest of wizards, but he did try and comfort the boy by pulling a strand of messy hair from his face. “I think it’s best if you got a good night’s sleep, Harry.”   
  
   Hearing his first name, something in Harry was very happy, but he knew Snape was just trying to make it go away. “Yeah… okay,” he said, unable to look at the other man.   
   He heard Fawkes flap his way over to Snape and the professor silently led him back to Gryffindor tower, taking the coat from him and wishing him a goodnight. Harry just stayed silent, mumbling the password and heading upstairs to bed. He never wanted to think about this night ever again.  
  
*****  
   Returning to his quarters, Severus closed the door gently as he walked inside, Fawkes flying to his perch. Snape, however, went right to a bottle of firewhiskey and poured a goblet ready, chugging it down in one go.   
   Merlin, what the hell had just happened!? He’d had the perfect opportunity to tell Harry how he felt, and the boy had even told him he liked him and just…  
   “Merlin’s beard…” he whispered, pressing a hand to his forehead. What the hell was he going to do about this? Nothing, right? That was the right thing to do. Just pretend it never happened. He was a professor here, and he hardly needed his dark reputation ruined, nor did he need others harassing Potter about this.   
   Putting the goblet down, he fell into the lounge in his study, his hands hanging off the arms of the lounge as he slouched uncharacteristically. Why did this have to happen to him? Just another thing he couldn’t have in life, right? Came with him being a Slytherin and Potter being a Gryffindor.   
   He was bothered at himself, irritated for letting this happen. He’d always been so in control of his own emotions and now he didn’t know what to think. He wasn’t a nice person, and he knew that, but he didn’t want to hurt Potter either.    
   He rubbed his hand against his chin, thinking of the boy and how he’d felt against him. It wasn’t exactly like he’d been up against Harry like in the classroom, but he had still tasted the boy’s magic against him, and it had been powerful. Very powerful. He’d wanted more, so much more. He wanted Harry’s eyes on him, he wanted those soft lips as his own, he wanted his body against his own…  
   His breath caught in his throat as he’d become rather excited over the whole idea of Harry Potter against him. He immediately stood and walked uncomfortably to the bathroom to take a very cold shower.  
  
*****  
   In the morning, Harry sat quietly in the common-room of Gryffindor Tower by himself. He decided there wasn’t much point in telling Ron that he had feelings for Snape anymore. Not now when he knew the professor didn’t like him back.  
   He was stupid to have said anything last night, and he felt very awkward knowing he was returning to Potions classes with the man today. He should have just kept his mouth shut. What in the world made him think Snape would ever share the same feelings? He was a cold-hearted Slytherin!  
   He ran a hand down his arm as he remembered how gentle Snape had been last night. He honestly thought the man was going to hold him, even tell him that he shared the same feelings, but… No. Instead, he was ushered back to his common-room in his own humiliation. It made it worse that Snape had been nice about it. He would have rathered the professor laugh and be cruel about it. Now he just felt pathetic.   
  
   “Hey, Harry,” said Hermione, everyone still in bed. “What are you doing up so early?” Of course, she was up and early to get ready for classes before breakfast. She was always up at the crack of dawn.   
  
   Still in his pyjamas, Harry hadn’t even gone back to bed last night. He slept down here by the fire because he just didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to risk waking anyone up in case they asked where he’d been, so sleeping on the couch seemed the best way to go.   
   “Nothing… I didn’t sleep well last night, that’s all,” he said, smiling lightly to her.   
  
   “Oh, I’m sorry,” said the girl, trying to pat down her frizzy hair. “Are you alright? I heard someone come in late last night. Was that you? You know you shouldn’t be out after hours…” He’d get into trouble and more points would be taken from Gryffindor.   
  
   Sitting with his hands between his knees, Harry looked around just to make sure that no one else was moving around upstairs. Considering Hermione knew about his feelings towards Snape, he figured telling her wouldn’t be so bad. At least it would get her to stop asking about it anyway. Not to mention it helped him unload.   
   “I ran into Snape last night on the Astronomy Tower,” he started, Hermione sitting across from him in the lounge. She seemed surprised, but she didn’t say anything more, so he continued, “I sort of… well it just came out.” He frowned.   
  
   “You told him that you like him?” Hermione asked. Her brows arched up as her eyes widened. “What did he say?”   
  
   “Nothing…” Harry said, looking down and linking his hands. “I mean, I didn’t expect him to, I just… I dunno, I kind of would have liked if he threw me out rather than just kindly and awkwardly walk me back to the common-room.”  
  
   Hermione’s eyes arched the opposite direction now, curiously. “He walked you back? Well… he had to have said something, right?”   
  
   Shrugging, Harry was desperately trying _not_ to remember the events of last night. It all seemed a bit of a blur now. Something that he just wanted to forget.    
   “He just… changed the subject and said that I should get some sleep, as if I was talking crazy or something. I mean, I know it sounds crazy, me liking Snape and all, but… I don’t know. It was weird, and horribly humiliating. I really don’t want to face him in class today…”   
  
   “Don’t you see, Harry?” said Hermione, piercing the boy’s eyes across from her, “This is Snape, a professor at Hogwarts! If he didn’t like you back, he probably _would_ have thrown you out. Instead, he walked you all the way back to the Gryffindor common-room even if it _was_ horribly awkward for the two of you.”  
  
   Harry just stared at her. “Hermione, you’re not suggesting that Snape actually does-,”  
  
   “Yes. He does have feelings for you, I’m sure of it,” the girl said as-a-matter-of-factly. “Look, how many years have you two been snarky and snide with one another? If Snape’s feelings hadn’t have changed, then he would have been just as cruel to you last night. Instead, he walked you back and didn’t even reject what you were saying. He just tried to pretend it didn’t happen, most likely because he’s trying to keep his feelings to himself because it’s against school rules for professors and students to date.”  
   Hermione sighed. “Harry… I’ve seen the way he looks at you… It’s hard to see it because he’s always been such a cold and professional character, but it’s there. He’s spent years putting on this cold façade just to show his loyalty to Voldemort. Do you really expect him to come out with it like it’s nothing? He likes you. He’s just trying to be professional about it. He’s probably never liked anyone since Lily… This would be just as confusing for him as you.”  
  
   “What, do you think he’s playing it safe? Snape?” Harry asked, a brow raised. Could Hermione be right, though? It made sense. Snape was very good at hiding his true feelings. He’d had to live with Pettigrew, who he _knew_ betrayed Harry’s parents just because Voldemort said so. He must have _hated_ that! Harry knew he would have killed the man before ever letting him step foot into his own home.   
   “What if you’re wrong, Hermione? What if he’s just being nice because he knows what rejection feels like? I mean, I know he’s been acting nicer towards me, but what if it’s just sympathy? Or thanks because I saved his life? I don’t want to chase him if it’s for nothing…”   
  
   “I don’t think it’s that at all, Harry. When you spoke about sparks, you sounded very serious. You wouldn’t be feeling Snape’s magic back if he didn’t share the same feelings,” explained Hermione. “What about in your tutoring? Surely when you’re alone it’s stronger. And last night?”  
  
   Harry remembered the day in the classroom that Snape was up against him. In fact he could very much feel his magic. It was pulsing against his own—especially when Snape’s hand had been against his own wrist.   
   Then the night he had cried, and how amazing Snape had felt against him. And last night, when Snape had given him his coat and done some of the buttons up, he had felt it even more. It was much stronger.  
   Was Hermione right? Did Snape really have feelings for him? But why keep it a secret? Especially when Harry had so blatantly let slip that he ‘liked’ him? God, it sounded so stupid now. But even if Snape was a professor, that didn’t mean he couldn’t tell the truth about how he felt! It just meant they couldn’t be together during school…   
   “You… really think he likes me?” he asked, looking back at Hermione. “I mean… yeah, I have definitely felt his magic. I sort of thought it was just my own being weird because I’ve never really felt anything like it before, but now that you mention it, I’m certain it was Snape’s.”   
  
   “Well, there’s one way to find out,” said Hermione, “Magic has a certain scent of the carrier, kind of like Amortentia, which is why the potion has a smell. Yours is broomsticks, I’ve smelled it before when you did accidental magic… I’m assuming it would be some kind of passion that Professor Snape has, probably some kind of potion.”   
  
   “Cauldrons and parchment…” Harry murmured, looking up to his friend. He felt awkward for knowing, and he felt his cheeks burn a soft shade of red. “I… thought it was just the Potions classroom, you know, considering there’s always cauldrons in there. But it wasn’t… It was Snape.”  
   He remembered how good it had smelt as well. It sounded strange, thinking the smell of a cauldron would be nice, but they were actually rather sweet and had a certain musk to them. Harry hadn’t been able to get the scent from his nostrils for hours after that class, and now it made sense. It was because Snape’s magic was still attached to him.   
   “What should I do?” he finally asked, “I don’t want to bother him, but If he does like me, well… I want him to show it,” he shrugged, as if that were normal. Which it was. If two people liked each other, what was so wrong about showing it?   
  
   This time Hermione didn’t really have a solid answer. Professor Snape wasn’t the average person. He was shut in, cold, professional. She hadn’t really seen him the way Harry had, so she honestly wasn’t sure what Harry could do.  
   “I don’t know if he’ll ever come out about it, considering he’s a professor here, but maybe you should just continue doing what you’re doing. Whatever that is, it’s obviously made the two of you closer. Just being yourself.”  
  
   Harry could have snorted. “You mean be completely idiotic and humiliating?” That really made him sound like his father, not to mention like a complete and utter Gryffindor, acting without even thinking.   
  
   “Well, it’s working,” Hermione laughed. “Just be yourself. This is Snape, if you start trying to act different, he’ll notice, and he’ll probably yell at you because of it. It’s not the first time he’s liked a Gryffindor, Harry.”  
  
   No, that was true. Harry smiled lightly at the thought of Snape actually liking him back. He definitely wanted to get down to the bottom of it, and he certainly wanted Snape to admit it. He’d be himself, with maybe a little more courage. Not that he had the feeling Snape _did_ like him back, he felt much more confident.   
   Maybe today’s Potions lesson wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	15. In The Rain

Chapter Fifteen: In the Rain.     
  
   The weather was horrible outside, cold and raining. Harry sat under the cover in the courtyard with his hood from his robes over his head so he could get some privacy. Some of the first-years were still pestering him and excited to be in the same school as the wizard who slayed Voldemort. At least it wasn’t as bad as it had been a month ago. The dreary weather also helped.  
   Most of the students were inside because of the hard rain that was pelting the grounds, which gave Harry a bit of time to himself before Ron and Hermione would be heading to Potions with him.   
   He had a free period at the moment, but Ron and Hermione were still in class. Hermione, because she had so many, and Ron had ended up taking a few different courses compared to him (courtesy of Hermione, of course).   
   He was glad to see Ron getting down into some books, but it did mean he would have some free periods by himself. He didn’t mind that, though, the silence was very much greeted. Plus, Spells had flown down from the Owlery to perch on the bench he was seated at.   
   He was still nervous about his next lesson, of course. He didn’t want Snape to think he was weak or anything because of how the last few weeks had been, but he didn’t want the man to completely act as if it hadn’t happened either. If Snape really did like him, then he was going to try anything he could to get the man’s attention in a positive way.   
   When Spells made a small bark, Harry looked up to see a hooded figure walking across the courtyard in the rain. The dark robes were obvious, but Harry felt his chest tighten as it looked awfully like a Death Eater.  
   “Professor,” he said, the hooded figure turning. Underneath the soaking wet hood, Severus Snape’s eyes pierced Harry’s and he felt his chest flutter at just how attractive the man looked in a hood. He looked like he was striding rather purposefully, but Snape easily turned in his direction and headed over—much to Harry’s own personal excitement.   
   “You know, you really shouldn’t walk around with your hood on, Professor,” he swallowed, the dark hair sticking to Snape’s face as he was clearly wet from the rain. God, he looked gorgeous, though. And Harry realised he was staring.   
  
   “Are you going to tell me hooded figures are instantly sought to be dangerous?” Snape asked, raising a brow. “That’s rather Muggle of you, Potter.”    
  
   Harry smiled, unable to stop himself, “I wasn’t talking about looking dangerous, sir.”  
  
   Snape just stared at the boy, quickly removing his hood. He didn’t bother brushing his hair down. The worse he looked, the more Potter would stay away from him.   
   “Potter, I want to make something clear with you. As a student here at Hogwarts, you will start acting like one. That includes no midnight strolling and no talking to any of the professors here disrespectfully. Do I make myself clear?”  
  
   Although he felt awkward, Harry nodded, smiling gently. “I was just trying to compliment you, sir, but… alright. I can see you don’t take those very well, even if you look really hot in a hood.”   
  
   Once more, Snape’s words caught in his throat before he grabbed Potter by the robes and stood him up, pushing him against the wall so he had to listen to him. “Listen to me, and listen to me carefully as I will not be repeating myself, Mister Potter.” He stopped as he looked into his perfect green eyes, and Harry’s hand went against his wrist.  
   Instantly, he felt the young man’s magic connect with his, and he wanted to shove Harry against the wall again and show him just how dangerous he could be. Instead, he just dropped him, taking his hand back and storming away without finishing what he was going to say.   
  
   Harry watched as Snape’s hood went back up as he headed into the rain. Probably to get ingredients for some kind of potion before class. Either way, he felt breathless as he’d been so close to the professor, watching as those dark eyes penetrated his own. Snape hadn’t hurt him, but it had been a shock to see him react that way. So… out of control?  
   He was started when he heard footsteps coming his way, Ron and Hermione rushing towards him. Ron looked furious, but Hermione just looked concerned. Obviously they’d seen Snape push him up against the stone wall.       
  
   “What the bloody hell was that about, Harry!?” asked Ron, looking horrified.   
  
   Harry swallowed hard, not knowing how to explain that he’d egged Professor Snape on. Maybe it was time he told Ron the truth before he got more negative vibes about Snape and threw them around.   
   “Ron, it was nothing, don’t worry,” he tried to say, but it didn’t seem to calm the red-headed boy down at all.  
  
   “Snape just assaulted you! He pushed you against the wall! I don’t think that was nothing!”   
  
   “Harry… just tell him,” Hermione said, Ron looking between them confused. She gave the boy an apologetic look, but if Snape and Harry were to ever have a relationship it couldn’t stay a secret to Ron.   
  
   “What’s going on? What do you mean ‘tell’ me?”   
  
   Rubbing the back of his neck, Harry frowned. “I should have told you earlier, Ron, but… I knew you wouldn’t like it, or understand it, really. I mean, I don’t even understand it.”  
  
   Ron almost didn’t want to know anymore by the look on both Harry and Hermione’s faces. “Spit it out, Harry… you’re making me nervous!”  
  
   “I like Snape…” Harry said, looking down as a mortified look went across Ron’s freckled face.   
  
   “Like? Like as in a friend, right? Like… you know, mates hang out and such, yeah?” Ron asked, feeling like he was about to be sick when he saw Harry blush. “Blimey, Harry, what the hell!?”   
  
   “Ron,” hissed Hermione, giving him a chilled look.   
  
   “Don’t tell me this is the reason why you broke up with Ginny!”   
  
   “I technically never _liked_ Ginny,” Harry reminded his friend.   
  
   “Well, how do you know if you _technically_ like Snape?” Ron accused. “Who knows _what_ he’s been putting in your food or drinks when you have class with him.” Ron’s face went even paler. “Oh, blimey, is that why… is that why you didn’t come with me and Hermione in tutoring lessons, because you wanted to be with…” Ron almost gagged.   
  
   “No, Ron,” urged Hermione, “I was going to tell Harry about it, but then he got the letter from Snape. That was McGonagall… She knew Harry needed extra lessons to catch up and… she made Snape do it. He wasn’t any more pleased than Harry was about the arrangement.”  
  
   Ron looked at his girlfriend in shock. “Wait… y-you knew about this!? How long have you known that my best friend’s been dating a teacher!? And not just any teacher, but _Snape!_ He’s a greasy bat, Harry!”   
  
   “We’re not dating!” objected Harry, seeing Spells fly away from all of the noise. Much too like Hedwig. He frowned, but he turned back to Ron. He’d apologise to Spells later on and give her a treat. “And I’ve never eaten or drunk anything in his class before.”  
  
   Ron seemed a little embarrassed about that, but his face was still red with fury at the whole thing. “So… what? What was that about before, then?” he said, motioning his hand to where Snape had had him against the wall.   
  
   “I just pissed him off, that’s all…” Harry explained, Hermione looking rather concerned once again. “I… tried complimenting him, but it didn’t go the way I planned and it just sort of made him angry…”  
  
   “So… Snape doesn’t like you back?” asked Ron. He sounded almost relieved about that, but he felt a bit guilty when Harry looked at him uncertainly.  
  
   “Hermione seems to think he does, but… I’m not so sure.”  
  
   Ron sat down, trying to make sense of everything. How hadn’t he figured this out? Harry had been beside Snape when he’d been bitten. He’d saved his life, though he doubted Harry liked him before any of that happened. Ron knew he hated the man for killing Dumbledore until the truth came out.   
   He ran a hand through his messy red hair. Why didn’t Harry just tell him? How long had this all been going on for? Sure, he didn’t like the idea, and it was awkward as hell, but he now understood why Harry had asked about wizarding relationships months back.   
   Months back? Had he started liking Snape months back!?   
   “Blimey, Harry… why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, looking up. He felt awfully betrayed and left out. Especially if Hermione had been in the loop all this time. Did Snape even _have_ feelings!? Despite Ron knowing the truth of Snape’s past, he still didn’t trust him. It just felt weird to when he’d hated him for years.  
  
   Harry shrugged awkwardly. “Well, to be honest, I didn’t even know it, or want to admit it… I didn’t want to tell you anything because I knew that nothing would come out of it. I’m sorry,” he said softly, rubbing the back of his neck once more. This was going to make for a very awkward Potions lesson.   
   “I should have told you, but… I didn’t even want to tell Hermione, but she guessed. I didn’t want to lie to her.”   
  
   Hermione looked thankful to that. “Ron, trust me, Harry didn’t do it on purpose, he was just confused. Plus… learning you have feelings for a teacher, and Snape of all teachers, is pretty nerve racking. Especially when you’ve been dating girls for the last few years.”   
  
   Ron didn’t really think about that, looking back at Harry. If Harry had had the chance before Ginny had been feeding him love potions, maybe he would have liked Snape earlier. He still shuddered at the thought, though. He doubted he’d ever get used to that.   
   “Mate, I’m sorry, but I can’t stand here and watch you walk into an abusive relationship. Even if Snape does like you, what the hell kind of show of affection was that?” he said, gesturing to what had happened a few minutes ago. “I can’t allow it. I won’t.” Ron’s voice was stern.   
  
   “I already told you, Ron, that was my fault. I egged him on. Plus, he didn’t even hurt me.”  
  
   “I don’t care. He’s a bloody Death Eater!”   
  
   “Ronald!” Hermione hissed once more, stopping the boy from continuing. “Harry and Professor Snape are actually a very good match for one another.”   
   Before Ron could protest, she put her hand up and stopped him, Harry just blushing. “Before you go back and say all the mean things that’s been shared between them over the years, you have to realise that Snape _had_ to be cruel to Harry. If he didn’t, then Voldemort would have known Snape wasn’t loyal to him… Snape’s had to endure some horrible stuff, Ron. Things that he probably didn’t want to do, but he did, to spy for Dumbledore and show his loyalty to Voldemort, and to protect Harry—even though he hated him at the time.”   
  
   Hermione seemed to have put a lot of the pieces together and Ron just looked down, not knowing what to say. He still didn’t approve, and he doubted he ever would.   
   “Fine… but that doesn’t mean I have to like him,” he muttered, picking up his bag and slinging it across his shoulder. “This Potions lessons is going to be awful,” he mumbled before walking away.   
  
   Hermione sighed, looking back to Harry. “Sorry…”  
  
   “It’s fine. I knew he wouldn’t take it well, anyway,” Harry murmured.  
  
   “He’ll come around, Harry, he always does,” the girl smiled. “Just out of curiosity, what _did_ you say to Snape to make him angry?”  
  
   Harry grinned stupidly, feeling his cheeks blush, “That he looks hot in a hood.”   
  
   Hermione’s eyes widened as she put a hand over her mouth. “Harry, you’re awful!” she laughed. “I almost feel sorry for Professor Snape.”  
  
   “I don’t,” Harry smirked.  
  
   “So you’re trying to swoon him?”   
  
   “Trying to. Don’t know if it’ll work, but… soon enough, if you say we’re a match, then he’ll cave in.”   
  
   “He’s still a professor, Harry,” Hermione stated.   
  
   “I know,” nodded Harry, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t be nice to one another. I’m thinking flowers. Do you think he’d hate me if I left flowers in his desk?”   
  
   Hermione laughed once more, knowing Harry was just joking. Snape was hardly one to like flowers. “Go on, before we all get into trouble.”   
  
   Harry chuckled as he picked up his bag and headed to the dungeons. This would, indeed, be an interesting lesson.   
  
*****    
   Potions had indeed been interesting. When Hermione and Harry had arrived, Ron was already seated by himself. He didn’t talk to Harry the whole lesson and kept giving Snape dirty looks. Snape didn’t seem to care or see—which was fine with Harry.  
   Hermione sat in the middle between them, just to keep the peace. And when they had to split off and work in sets of two, Harry paired himself with Dean Thomas.   
   Snape was rather silent for himself in class, and Harry kept stealing glances at him. Much to his disappointment, though, he hadn’t seen the professor look at him once—except to come over and inspect his and Dean’s cauldron and walk away silently.   
   The silence was usually a good thing when Snape hovered. It meant he had nothing to criticise. He’d noticed he did that a lot with Hermione in class, but anyone else he’d jump at the chance to say something snarky. Today, though, it had been different. And odd. He doubted he was the only one to notice this as well. The other students probably just thought he was sick or something.  
   Snape was dry of any rain, which only meant he’d probably used a spell to make himself dry. He doubted Snape was actually sick. He was probably just quiet because he didn’t want to yell and overreact because he was still awkward around Harry.  
   Harry just smirked at that.   
   Looking at the instructions, Dean was having trouble getting the cutting right. Having learnt that it actually _did_ make a dramatic difference with how you cut things, Harry knew all too well that Dean was doing it wrong, however he didn’t do anything about it. Instead, he waited until Snape circled back around.  
   “Professor,” he said quietly, Snape’s dark eyes going to him, his hands behind his back in a military fashion.   
  
   “Yes, Potter?” asked the Potions master. He hadn’t completely disregarded Potter being in his class, he was just trying to avoid him at all costs right now. However, being a professor, it was his duty to tend to his students when in need of help, even if it was Harry Potter.   
  
   “I was wondering if you could tell us if we’re doing this right. Dean’s been cutting, but it doesn’t seem to be doing the right thing. It says it’s meant to bubble, but it’s not.” Dean looked nervous beside him, giving Harry an angry look that he’d called Snape over.   
  
   Frowning, Snape looked at the diced pieces of gingerroot. “Dicing is not slicing, Mister Thomas,” he noted, shaking his head and completely ignoring Harry. “Put this rubbish aside and start again. This time, _read_ the instructions _properly._ ”   
  
   “Yes, sir,” said Dean, eyeing Harry and quickly moving to go and get a new gingerroot.   
  
   Snape took this as an opportunity to look darkly at Potter. “I don’t know what you are playing at, Potter, but stop acting like a child. I already went over this with you in private lessons. Waste any more of my valuable recourses and I will be giving you detention for a month and removing more House points.”   
  
   “You think that’s a punishment, Professor?” said Harry rather boldly. Now knowing that Snape could potentially have feelings for him, he had become a lot more courageous—despite the hot blush on his face.   
  
   Snape growled, pushing past the boy and tending to his other students.   
  
   Ron mumbled under his breath as he watched Harry talk to Snape. Never in his life did he think that this would happen. His best friend, Harry, falling for Snape! The Dungeon Bat. He grimaced at the thought. How could anyone find that git attractive?   
   Not watching what he was doing, he accidently sliced his finger, wincing and swearing to himself.   
  
   “Ron, are you alright?” Hermione asked hurriedly, watching as the blood dripped down his finger.  
  
   “I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse,” said the red-head, trying to act brave.   
  
   “Ron, you’re bleeding quite profusely!” Hermione put her hand up, but yelped quietly when Ron grabbed it and tore it back down. “Ron!”  
  
   “Are you mental!? I’m not asking _him_ for help!” Ron sneered, eyeing Snape as he still circled the class like a vulture.   
   
   Hermione gave an aggravated look. “Don’t be such a child, Ron. Come on, if you don’t get it covered you might get an infection with all these ingredients around the place, and believe it or not, Snape’s actually been a lot nicer since he’s recovered.”  
  
   Ron muttered to himself, not wanting anything to do with Professor Snape, but Hermione put her hand high up in the air and soon enough Snape was walking over to them. Ron just held his bleeding finger, trying to put on a brave face despite the pain.  
  
   “Professor, Ron’s cut his finger.”  
  
   Snape looked at the dark blood that dripped onto the table before grabbing out a small phial from his pocket. Classes could be quite dangerous and there was never knowing what idiot would cut themselves or explode a cauldron, so he always came prepared.  
   “Your hand, Mister Weasley,” he said, Ron hesitant to move. Eventually, the boy leant his hand out and Snape put a single drop of Essence of Dittany on the cut. It disappearing within mere seconds.   
  
   Ron felt a sharp kick in his shin from Hermione under the desk and looked as thankful as he could to Professor Snape. “Thank you, sir…” he mumbled. Snape just put the phial back into his pocket and went back to work, watching the students brew.   
   Leaning his hand down, he looked at it, thankful that the pain was gone. He wiped the blood away with a cloth that was on the bench before putting it back down.   
  
   “Ron, if Snape and Harry do… end up together, you’re going to have to start getting used to it,” Hermione made clear. “Harry is your best friend. You’re not really going to get upset over this, are you?”  
  
   “I’m sorry, but have you noticed that the man he’s fallen in love with is _Professor Snape!?_ ” Ron hissed, Hermione hushing him. Luckily, everyone was too preoccupied with what they were doing in their own pairs to hear their discussion.  
   “How can you be okay with this?” Okay, so he understood that Snape had protected Harry since the beginning, but that didn’t make him a good person! Snape was evil! He didn’t care if he ended up being cleared and had been a spy for Dumbledore, he still didn’t like him! And he didn’t like him even more now that Harry had started liking him.   
   “Can you imagine, in the future, us going to hang out and then ol’ Snape comes along with us just because he’s dating Harry? He’d completely ruin everything!”   
  
   Hermione sighed in exasperation. “I don’t think Professor Snape would do anything like that. He’s more respectful than that, and he’d be well aware of the age gap in friends.”  
  
    _“Respectful!?”_ Ron argued. “Bloody hell, Hermione, have you gone completely mental?”  
  
   “No! And I’m tired of you being so blind to what your best friend wants and enjoys! Gosh, Ron, can’t you see that even if we don’t like it that magic is a very strong bond!? They’ve clearly made one, and although Snape is trying to be ignorant to it, magic will eventually pull them together no matter what anyone else thinks, even themselves. And you’re just going to have to live with it, so you better start dealing with it!”  
   Putting her hand up once more, she got Snape to inspect the finished potion she’d mainly worked on and asked if she could leave for the bathroom. Once she’d gotten the okay, she stormed out of the dungeons.   
  
   Ron just looked down, beginning to pack away the things he didn’t use.  
  
*****    
   After his final lesson, Harry walked up to the Owlery in the pouring rain, shuddering as he got himself under the covers. It was freezing now, and his damp robes weren’t helping any, but he wanted to come and check on Spells.  
   Across the way, she was resting comfortably on a perch provided in the room. He walked over to her and greeted her, grabbing out a small treat for her from the bag in his pocket that said Eeylops Owl Treats.  
   Spells nibbled his fingers in thanks and ate the treat, gulping it down gleefully.   
   Lifting his hand, he patted her gently, the snowy owl fluffing up. “Sorry I was loud before, I didn’t mean to annoy you,” he said, leaning down and giving her a kiss on the soft head feathers. Spells just chittered in response and Harry took it as he was in the clear with her.   
   Once knowing Spells was alright, Harry headed back down to the castle, wearing the hood on his robes so his face wouldn’t get pelted with the rain. It didn’t help much, and he ended up with speckles all over his glasses. The robes also didn’t really help. It wasn’t like they were waterproof.   
   Trying to look where he was going, he ended up slipping over on the slippery steps and fell flat on his backside. He gave a grunt as he pushed his hood up, it having fallen and covered his eyes. He had no idea why the hoods on these robes were so bloody large!   
   As he pushed the hood up, he winced as someone was standing above him. He couldn’t see a thing because his glasses were fogged, but he gladly took the hand that he could make out being offered to him, and he was lead under the cover, able to take his glasses off and clean them the best he could.   
  
   “You really shouldn’t be walking around in the rain by yourself, Potter.”    
  
   Harry put his glasses back on quickly as he recognised that drawling voice, Professor Snape standing before him. He felt his cheeks warm a little at the sight of the Potions master, and felt horribly embarrassed that he’d fallen over in front of him. He probably thought he was a clutz.    
   “I could say the same thing about you, sir,” he said with a smile, though Snape wasn’t nearly as saturated as he was. He could feel himself shivering in the cold. It should not be this cold in autumn!   
  
   Snape shook his head at the sight of the boy shivering and dripping wet. “What was so important that it had you roaming around in the rain?” he asked curiously and somewhat worriedly. He hid his worry the best he could, though. Although seeing Potter fall over had been a little amusing, he did worry for him, which was why he gave him a hand.   
  
   Pushing his hood off and brushing a hand roughly through his hair, Harry wrapped his arms around himself. “I was just checking on Spells,” he said.   
  
   “I see you’ve kept her unoriginal name. Very creative.” Severus’ voice dripped sarcasm.   
  
   “Well, yeah, she likes it. And you said she was used to it. I didn’t feel I needed to rename her,” Harry shrugged.   
  
   Snape just nodded absently. “You should get inside before you fall ill,” he said flatly, even if he very much liked the look of the boy’s wild hair all wet and messy. “Come, Potter.”  
  
   As Professor Snape turned on his heal, Harry immediately followed the other inside, dragging the rain from his robes inside. “I noticed you were dry when I reached your class, you don’t maybe have a spell that could dry me, do you, Professor?” he asked, shivering rather horribly now.   
  
   “Perhaps,” said Snape, “But perhaps if you were any more intelligent, you would have used the _Impervius_ charm to repel the rain before you went roaming about in it.”   
  
   Harry stopped. “Well, if you’re so smart, why didn’t you use it? You were just as wet as I am now.”   
  
   Turning swiftly, Snape groused. “Had it ever occurred to you that maybe I enjoy the rain?” he snapped. “Besides, unlike you, I _do_ know a spell that can undo the damage.”   
   Severus approached the shorter wizard and looked down at him, seeing his glasses still smudged and droplets of water coming from the tips of his hair. He looked horribly tempting all wet and messy.   
  
   Harry just held green against brown as they looked at one another. Suddenly, they had become quite close. “Is… asking you to lend me that spell too much, sir?” he asked, barely a whisper now as he looked into those dark eyes before him.   
  
   “If you don’t mind my wand being directed at you…” Severus murmured, looking Harry up and down.  
  
   Harry’s lips parted as he realised that could have a very bad double meaning, and he felt himself swallow hard as his blood pooled into his cheeks.   
  
   Merlin, Harry looked utterly vulnerable, and it took everything Severus had not to gently caress his cheek and claim those wet lips as his own. What the hell had come over him!? He knew desire could be a strong thing, but this was insane!   
   The closer they got to one another, the closer their magic connected, and it was trying to pull them closer and closer until they had fully connected in an intimate moment. No, he wouldn’t have that! But damnit, Harry was fucking gorgeous like this!   
  
   Harry realised that his breath had increased, his magic pushing him to get closer and closer. “Sir…”  
  
   As he heard footsteps, Snape moved back immediately, feeling his magic strain to stay. He clenched his fists and gained control over it, seeing Weasley and Granger heading their way.   
   “I am sure Miss Granger knows a spell well enough to get you dry, Potter. Good luck.”   
  
   As Snape walked away, Harry felt his own magic fall back under his control, but with the utmost despair. He watched as Snape’s dark robes billowed behind him as he walked away, Ron and Hermione approaching him.   
  
   “Harry, what on earth are you doing soaked!?” Hermione gasped, immediately pulling out her wand and saying, “ _Assicco_.”  
  
   Harry felt his hair prickle and his clothes loosen from their sticky position, the water being drained from his clothes and hair.   
  
   Tucking her wand back away, the girl shook her head. “Honestly, you’re going to get yourself sick.”  
  
   Harry, who was still caught in a daze, just muttered an apology and thanks.  
  
   “What was _he_ doing here?” asked Ron, folding his arms.   
  
   Harry was snapped back to reality and swallowed, pushing his now dry glasses up. “Oh… nothing. He just told me to get out of the rain before I get sick…” he said, trying to ignore the magic that was tingling all around him. Bloody hell it had been absolutely pleasurable, and he was glad his robes were still covering him, because it had also been very arousing.   
  
   Ron made an uncertain facial, looking away. “Well… I guess that at least stands for something, right?”  
  
   Both Harry and Hermione looked up at Ron. “Does this mean…?”  
  
   “You’re my best friend, Harry, I can’t really hate you if you like someone. I’m not gunna try and be friends with him, though.”  
  
   Harry laughed a little. “That’s probably for the best anyway. I don’t think Snape plays well with others.”  
  
   “You can say that again,” mumbled Ron. “I’m gunna grab a bite. I’ll see you two inside.”   
  
   As Ron walked away, Hermione gave the now dry boy a smile. “I told you he’d come around, Harry. It just takes him a while.”   
  
   “Better late than never,” Harry noted. Ron and Harry had had their fair share of disagreements.  
  
   Having seen what had happened seconds ago, Hermione knew that eventually both Professor Snape and Harry couldn’t fight their magic any longer. It was already getting stronger by the minute, and the only way it would stop would be if they gave into their temptation and consummated their relationship. Clearly it was already getting strong, because Hermione had never seen either Harry or Snape like that before. It was awkward, but in a way, it was also very romantic.   
   “Harry… how bad are the urges getting?” she asked concernedly. Harry would certainly be under a lot more stress than Snape would, just because of hormonal levels, but at the same time, she doubted Snape had to deal with this kind of feeling before.   
  
   Harry’s green eyes opened in surprise. How much did Hermione know without ever being told? “I… dunno,” he said honestly. “I-I don’t really think about it… and… when it happens, it’s kind of like I don’t really know it’s happening.”   
  
   The girl nodded. “You do realise that it’s not going to get any easier each time you see one another, don’t you?”   
  
   “Hermione, Snape hasn’t even admitted that he likes me. I’m not going to jump him. He’d probably kill me!”   
  
   Although Hermione had no idea what Harry was really going through, from the looks of it, it was very powerful and uncontrollable. Soon enough if Snape and Harry didn’t finally talk things out, they’d be very frustrated and moody from their magical urges—not to mention the sexual frustration.   
   Hermione didn’t exactly like thinking about Harry or Snape in a sexual manner, but those were the facts. If they didn’t give in soon, then they would be utterly forced to! And who knew what would happen if that happened.   
   “He doesn’t need to, Harry. And I don’t know if he ever will before doing something physical about it. He’s stubborn, and like I said… he knows the rules of Hogwarts. He’s never betrayed them before (despite when spying for Voldemort), so he’ll try his hardest not to now, even if that means trying to reject you every time.”   
  
   At the mention of something physical, Harry felt his cheeks warm in both lust and embarrassment. “So, what’s going to happen to me? I’m just going to suffer these urges? I don’t know if I can stand that anymore, Hermione. Isn’t there something that can make it go away?”  
  
   The girl shook her head grimly. “Sorry, but no. This kind of magic is a kind of its own. It’s ancient and very powerful. I doubt there’s even potions that could subdue it. The… sexual frustration, yes, but not the overall magic.”   
  
   Harry tried to ignore the mention of anything sexual. “So, Snape’s got to be suffering just as much as me, then?”  
  
   “Harry, didn’t you just see him!? You two were mere inches away from snogging in the corridor!”  
  
   Harry felt the blood rush from his head. What!? They had been!? But… he could have sworn they were much further apart than that.   
  
   “If Snape hadn’t have walked away… I don’t know what would have happened. He’s clearly fighting a losing battle, though,” Hermione explained. “Snape’s suffering just as much as you are, and soon enough it’s going to become torture. Some wizards have gone insane because they didn’t give into their magic…”  
  
   Harry felt awful now. He didn’t want Snape to be suffering, but they hardly even knew one another on a person level! Why did their magic have to be bonding when they hadn’t even bonded personally? Snape just _refused_ to talk to him! Every time he tried, he’d just ignore it and tell him to go away!   
   If their magic was becoming stronger, and if they couldn’t control it in the end, then what the hell were they supposed to do? As much as he just wanted Snape to take him, he didn’t like the thought of sleeping with someone he didn’t exactly know—even if he did have a major crush on him.     
   What was Snape thinking about all of this?


	16. The Owlery

Chapter Sixteen: The Owlery  
  
 **Warning: Mentions of sexual situations**  
  
   Severus slammed the door to his personal quarters, Fawkes peering up, startled. His body was itching and tingling, and he just couldn’t get the hot desire away from him. It was burning! His magic was burning! His whole _body_ was burning, and it was sending him insane!  
   Harry Potter was a bloody student! And here he was, panting and pacing because he couldn’t get the feeling of the boy’s magic off him! And what could have been publically seen!? He wanted to just stay away from Potter as much as he could, but now the damn boy was in his classes again! How the hell was he supposed to teach like this!?   
   Breathing in, he stopped his pacing and exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself. He could do this, he had bloody-well kept himself at ease with the Dark Lord, so he could damn well calm down from Harry Potter.   
   But it wasn’t the same! Hate and… whatever he was feeling right now was completely different!    
   He knew his magic and Harry’s was getting stronger, and he knew all about what had happened between them. He wasn’t stupid. He may have been gifted when it came to knowing the Dark Arts, but Ancient Magic was something very powerful, and he knew what would happen if he didn’t eventually give in.  
   Did Potter know? Did Potter know that their magic, out of everyone in the wizarding—and even Muggle—world, had joined? Had made a bond?  
   “Why Potter…?” he whispered, falling into his lounge with a thud, his robes following him. Why the hell did it have to be Potter!? He had no quarrel about the fact that Harry was a man; he grew up disregarding Muggle behaviour as soon as his mother knew he was a wizard—despite his father hating it.   
   But Potter? After everything that had happened between them, he probably would have been happy to never see Harry after he’d recovered. In fact, the boy being there when he woke up had been awkward and strange.   
   So he knew that he had come to care for Harry, after all, it had been a duty of his to protect the boy when he got himself into such stupid situations. Bloody nosy kid. But that was hardly a reason for him to start feeling for the boy in a much deeper, emotional connection!  
   He would not admit his feelings. Lily, yes, he’d loved her. But POTTER!? He just didn’t understand how the boy had even come to care for him! His own feelings were confusing enough, but at least he had known the truth from the start, that he was protecting the boy. Harry saw nothing but a twisted, cruel and bitter Death Eater. How had his feelings changed?  
   Severus covered his face with both of his hands as he leant back, expelling a sigh. Harry had grown up hating him, questioning his loyalty, and he had good reason to. He’d killed Dumbledore right in front of him, and then given the boy mixed feelings about being in The Order—a bunch of witches and wizards who were to protect Harry and fight against the Dark Lord.   
   Snape’s eyes lowered, relaxing his body. It was still tingling with the magic of the other wizard, as well as his own, but he knew it wasn’t the end of it. It would keep happening as long as Harry and he were in contact with one another. Even the same room. And soon enough, if they didn’t give in, it would become torture for the both of them. Not just because it was annoying, but it would become physically and mentally unbearable. That’s what this bond did!  
   Could Harry stand that kind of suffering? He didn’t exactly wish for the Gryffindor to suffer. As much as he enjoyed seeing him in trouble or taking away points, the last few weeks he had been rather generous to the Gryffindor in letting him get away with things he probably would have punished any other student for—especially Gryffindors.   
   Harry was a teenager, though. It had to have been much stronger. He understood that it was making him suffer as well, but at least he had somewhat control over his emotions. Harry didn’t. He never had! The boy was terrible at it. It’s why he failed so miserably in the Occlumency lessons.   
   He supposed he should really talk to Harry. But he didn’t know if he could stand being in the same room as him right now. It seemed like torture already. However, if he took a potion and subdued at least the sexual desire, then maybe it would suffice? First, he would allow the Gryffindor to calm down. He would speak to him after dinner in the Great Hall, that way he wouldn’t get in the way of his friends.   
   Pushing himself up, he walked over to the cupboards, moving a few things around to grab a phial which contained a very dark red liquid. He popped it open and took a mouthful before putting it back. He would first speak to Albus and Minerva about this. As embarrassing as it was, they needed to know what may happen because of this Ancient Magic.   
  
*****  
   The door was open, and Severus checked to see if Minerva was inside before entering, the Headmistress looking up.  
  
   “Severus, is something wrong?” said the witch, looking up from her desk. The portraits in the room all seemed to stop what they were doing, turning to the man dressed in black who had his hands together in front of him, fingers linked.   
  
   “Headmistress, I was hoping I could discuss something rather… private with you and Albus,” said Snape, taking a few steps inside. The portraits in the room all seemed to moan at that, but Severus just kept a straight face, even if rather annoyed. Nosy sods.  
  
   “My boy, is everything alright?” said Dumbledore from his portrait. Looking at the other portraits, he shook his head. “Out, all of you!”   
  
   When the other witches and wizards all left their portraits, Severus finally approached the back of the spare chair, leaning a hand onto it. “I believe you know why I am here. Potter.”   
  
   “Oh, he hasn’t gotten himself into any more trouble, had he?” Minerva said, adjusting her glasses.  
  
   “No,” stated Snape coolly. “Don’t play stupid with me, you two have been planning this from the very beginning, and now it’s finally happening. And yet, what you both fail to realise is that it’s against the school rules. If either of us acted upon such desires we would both be kicked out of Hogwarts.” Snape’s voice had gone cold and snappy.   
   “In pushing this, you have both forced us to be completely miserable if we do give into our magic. If you thought this was a good idea, I must admit… you are far from right. Unless your intentions all along have been to make us suffer?”  
  
   Minerva tried to hide a smirk and gave a quick glimpse to Dumbledore’s portrait. “Severus, please explain what you mean by this.”  
  
   “I don’t need to explain it!” snapped the Slytherin. “You know bloody-well what I am talking about! You’re the one who forced him into my classroom, and now I have to look at him every blasted day for the rest of this miserable year!”   
  
   “And you think Harry is not feeling the same way?” suggested Dumbledore as he peered over his glasses.  
  
   “I don’t care what Potter is feeling! It’s perfectly fine for him to have feelings for a professor. I’m the one that will be scolded and berated!” Snape retorted. Usually he was in much better control of himself, but this was getting beyond ridiculous.  
   “Can you imagine the talk at Hogwarts!? As a professor, it is a duty of mine to know what is for the best of the students here, and rumours of Gryffindor’s Golden Boy and the Head of Slytherin fraternising is hardly a way to get the students learning! Don’t you see what you have potentially caused for this school and our lives!? Not to mention the blasted _Prophet_ if they ever heard!”  
  
   Dumbledore was the one who spoke next, “Severus, we did nothing to cause this,” he chuckled.   
  
   Nothing!? Severus didn’t believe it for a second! “You two were onto this from the start! Don’t. Lie! I have followed your orders, I have risked my life, and now that the boy has saved me, I am still here to serve in any way you need me, but I will not have you lying to me!”   
  
   “We did not make you two fall for one another, Severus,” McGonagall stated gently. She wasn’t expecting Severus Snape to take any of this well, certainly after his years of being alone and bitter, but they had done nothing to make Harry’s and his magic connect. No one could do anything about that, it was just something that happened. It was destiny. Fate. Not even the most powerful of witches and wizards could tamper with Ancient Magic.   
  
   Snape, highly frustrated, pointed an accusing finger at the Headmistress. “I have not _fallen_ for Potter!” he sneered, “I would never allow it!” It was uncharacteristic of him to ever talk to a superior this way, but he would not take them playing with him and Potter like they were a ball of yarn!  
  
   “Then whatever are you speaking of, Severus? Surely you have some kind of feelings for the young man. Only love would make your magic bond with his,” said Dumbledore with the gentlest of smiles.  
  
   It wasn’t love! The only person he ever loved was Lily Evans! Whatever the hell was happening with Harry Potter was all the boy’s fault! He refused to accept it!   
   Snape gave a frustrated noise and turned towards the door, his robes flapping to keep up. And he left without another word.  
  
   Minerva smirked a little, eyeing the portrait of Dumbledore.  
  
   “Well, you didn’t expect him to admit it, did you, Minerva?”   
  
   “Of course not, Albus. Even as a boy Severus was hard to talk to.”   
  
*****   
   Severus made his way down to the Great Hall for dinner, but he had no intention of staying there while the feast went on. He was still frustrated and didn’t wish to be seated anywhere near Minerva McGonagall. Even if they were house enemies, he still respected her, and he didn’t exactly feel like getting into trouble for hexing her. Plus, he knew she’d be watching him. Observing. He wouldn’t have that. Especially if he did accidently look at Potter.  
   Approaching the Gryffindor table, he turned to Harry, who looked rather eagerly up to him. Already, he could smell the boy’s magic curling around him, and he tried his best to keep a perfectly disinterested expression.  
   “Potter, I need a word with you after dinner.”  
  
   Surprised, Harry lifted a curious brow. “Is something wrong, Professor?”  
  
   Something was very wrong, but he didn’t say that. “I will be in the Owlery.” He wasn’t having Potter anywhere near his personal quarters, so he figured somewhere out of sight but still in public would be best. Out of sight simply because of the Headmistress. He wasn’t having her snooping.  
  
   Snape left before Harry could say anything, and he just turned back to his friends, Ron and Hermione looking at him oddly. “I don’t know what that was about, so don’t even ask,” he shrugged, trying to get the heated feel of Professor Snape’s magic off him. It was so wonderful, though. Something that one couldn’t even describe.   
  
   “Why would he want to meet you up there? It’s cold out there…” Ron said accusingly. Of course, he still didn’t trust Snape. He wouldn’t for a long time. Even with knowing that Snape had risked his life to protect Harry for years and that he was loyal to Dumbledore, it didn’t make him a good man. Snape had still done some terrible things to keep alongside Voldemort as a spy.   
  
   “Like I said, I dunno,” Harry repeated. “Maybe he needs to send something off?”   
  
   “Or maybe he wants to finally talk to you in private,” Hermione suggested, the two boys looking at her. Ron went a pale colour, like he didn’t like the thought of that at all.   
  
   “Blimey, Harry, what if he wants to… you know? He’s a guy after all, I mean… Is he still a virgin!?”  
  
   “Ron!” Hermione hissed, slapping the boy on the arm, “Even if Professor Snape is a man, it doesn’t mean that’s the first thing on his mind. Plus, the Owlery? He’s got more class than that!”  
  
   “More class? Would you listen to yourself?” Ron scoffed as if Hermione knew what she was talking about. “You’re blokes! Besides, mate… didn’t you think about this before? Surely you realised it would come up sooner or later.”  
  
   “Ron, we’re not even dating! We’re not even a couple!” Harry protested. “I doubt Snape thinks anything like that! God…” He was blushing now, and he tried to look away.  
   Of course he’d thought about the possibility. He’d had numerous amounts of exciting dreams about the man. He was a teenager after all, and a guy. Of course he’d thought about sex! Well… not really-really thought about it, but it had crossed his mind. What if Snape did want to talk about that?   
  
   “Harry’s right, they’re not even dating. I’m sure Professor Snape has a valid reason for wanting to talk to Harry,” Hermione said calmly. “Besides, if Harry and Snape do decide to make a relationship out of things, then that’s their own business. Harry doesn’t need us asking about him every two seconds. We’re his friends, not the tabloids.”  
  
   When Ron muttered to himself, Harry just awkwardly looked away. He didn’t even know how intimate Ron and Hermione were, so yes, it really wasn’t any of their business, was it? Still, the thought of getting to see Professor Snape naked was a very stimulating one, even if awkward. He had no idea what he looked like under those clothes.   
   The rest of their dinner was deadly silent. Hermione had tried to pick up a different subject, but both he and Ron couldn’t really carry it. Harry’s mind was too curious and nervous about what the hell was going to happen tonight.   
   When the time came, he broke away from his friends, the both of them giving him a good luck pat, and he set towards the Owlery. He did have to question… why there? Why couldn’t they go somewhere warmer? It was still freezing out here. At least the rain had stopped, though.   
   As he started up the stairs, he realised that he was carrying very heavy nerves in his chest now. He could feel his heart thumping into his ears, and his legs seemed to be going weak. What if Snape did want to talk about sex? No, he was sure that wasn’t it. That would just be embarrassing. Even for Snape, he imagined. Although, the thought of talking about sex in that smooth voice of his was kind of a turn on.   
   Then again, maybe he was meeting him in the Owlery because it was dirty and full of birds. Probably less likely to get sexually aroused in there than it was in the dungeons, or in Snape’s office. Yes, that was probably why. If Hermione was right, then Snape was probably thinking the same things he was.   
   As he made it up the top, he walked inside and under the cover. Professor Snape was standing near the stone railing to where some of the owls would fly in and out.   
   “Professor,” he said softly, approaching him. Now his nerves really were beginning to make a meal out of his insides.   
  
   There was no easy way of saying this, but Snape had to, and he wanted things to be very clear. When Harry walked in, he tried his best to ignore the horribly exciting feel of their magic together again.   
   “Potter, I wished to speak of the night on the Astronomy Tower.”   
  
   Harry almost deflated. “Oh… you mean about Dumbledore?”   
  
   “No.” Snape shook his head, looking down at the younger man. Damnit, he’d come here because he thought it would be less exciting for the both of them, but it wasn’t helping any. Harry’s eyes were so glassy and beautiful behind the shimmer of his glasses, and his messy hair was ragged and spiked. It made him frustrated at the same time, and he wanted to pat it down, but it made him look gorgeous and wild. Like any Gryffindor.  
   “No, I wanted to talk about the night _we_ were on the Astronomy Tower,” he stated. It sounded strange coming from his own throat as he said it rather softly, but he couldn’t let Harry think that things between them were allowed. It wasn’t. And Harry clearly had a way of driving him crazy.  
  
   Harry’s nerves instantly came back. “W-what about it?”   
  
   Watching the boy’s hair wisp in the night air, Severus tried his damn best to stay focused, but it seemed impossible. He could feel their magic locking as he’d moved closer, and dear Merlin he wanted to grab the Gryffindor and make him his right here in the Owlery. He wasn’t an animal, but his magic was making it incredibly hard to stay on track. Nor had sex ever been on his mind. It was the damn magic! He just wanted it gone!  
   “I understand that you have certain… urges and feelings, Potter,” he said, the words seeming like they were dragging out as long as possible. His head felt like it was spinning, and as Harry’s soft lips parted, he swallowed hard. “But I must make clear that you cannot act upon them. You are a… a student, and I am a professor here at Hogwarts, and…”  
  
   Harry’s eyes never once left those dark, purposeful ones, but even stuck in this trance, he noticed that Snape didn’t sound like his usual self at all. He could feel it, their magic, pulling closer and closer, and he could feel it dancing against his skin.  
   “Professor…?” he whispered, Snape clearly having lost his train of thought. Somehow, and he didn’t know how, the both of them had moved closer to one another, and Harry was now mere inches away from Snape’s lips. He could feel the heat radiating from the professor, and those dark eyes were piercing his. His breath got caught in his throat, and he inched closer.   
  
   “And… “ Oh, fuck it. Severus felt himself grab at the Gryffindor, their lips crashing together as he tasted Harry in a lust-filled kiss. The young man’s lips were soft and sweet and he heard the most pleasurable sound come from the Gryffindor’s throat. He didn’t even know what he was doing, but it felt good!   
  
   Harry, completely stunned but holding his ground, gripped at Snape’s robes, gasping as their lips didn’t waver. His nostrils filled with the scent of the man, their magic going haywire in the Owlery, the birds flapping from the disturbance.   
   Even though he had no clue to what he was doing, it just seemed natural to pull the man closer to him until their chests were flush against one another. His hands slipped under the dark black robes, gripping at the side of Snape’s plum purple coat and slipping through it.   
   He wanted desperately for all of those buttons to come off, and he felt his hand grip the man’s arm, pushing the sleeve up, his eyes closing as he took in every sense of the wizard against him.  
  
   With a hand at the back of Harry’s head, Snape felt the Gryffindor’s back hit up against the stone wall of the Owlery. He also felt his sleeve being rolled up, and his shame for the Dark Mark being exposed seemed so little as the Gryffindor’s lips were still against him.  
   He’d tried to fight the feeling, their magic, but it was impossible. He knew all too well it wouldn’t stop until they were together, but part of him knew it was wrong to be dating a student. And what of Harry!? He’d just… violated him! He didn’t know if Harry wanted to be treated this way. Hell, he didn’t know a thing about how Harry felt besides the fact that he’d childishly blurted out that he ‘liked’ him.   
   When Harry’s hands went into his belt and pulled his shirt out, he knew things had to stop, and even though his magic was urging him to continue, he pushed himself immediately away from him, breathing heavily and looking down at himself. His shirt was hanging over his pants, and his arm sleeve was rolled up, the Dark Mark quite visible in the light of the Owlery.   
   “Potter… I…” he started, trying to level his head out. He swallowed heavily and flicked the hair from his face. “You will speak of this to no one! Is that clear?” he ordered, trying to pull himself together.  
  
   Harry, who still had his back against the wall, just stared at the man in front of him, dazed from the feeling of Snape being so close to him. He couldn’t form words, and he just touched his warm lips, soft and swollen from the passionate and brutal kiss the other had given him.   
  
   Snape threw his arm sleeve back down and tucked his shirt in as quickly as he could, ignoring his erection that prodded needily in his trousers. Flicking his robes, he flew out of the Owlery like a bat out of Hell.   
  
   Swallowing heavily, Harry stared to where Severus Snape had been a second ago before turning into a ghostly figure of black smoke. He didn’t even walk out, he flew out.   
   Harry just leant against the wall, his body shaking. God, he’d felt so amazing against him. So warm and tasty and… He looked down at his hands, seeing them shake horribly as the static of magic tingled across them.   
   It took a few minutes for Harry to compose himself, fixing his own robes and shirt up. Somehow, in the midst of it all, his tie had become loose. He tightened it back up, running a hand through his hair before quickly making his way back to the Gryffindor common-room.  
   Bloody hell, what the hell had just happened? Snape had… kissed him! And not just a gentle peck or anything, but a fully blown brutal pash! Harry felt like there was nothing but air in his head, and his heart was pounding in his chest. Snape had kissed him! He liked him! He liked him back!  
   Hermione was right! But he frowned, realising just how angry Snape had been. He was furious with himself for having kissed him—Harry had felt it through their bonded magic. Did Snape hate the fact that he liked him, or was it just because it was breaking school rules?   
   Touching his lips for a moment, he was happy the blood had returned to where it belonged and they were no longer swollen from Snape’s own lips having taken his. Walking back into Gryffindor Tower looking like that may have raised some very awkward questions.  
   Was he going to tell Ron and Hermione? Of course he was! They were his best friends! He couldn’t keep this a secret! He knew Snape said to tell no one, but he couldn’t have that. What if Snape never talked to him again and tried to ignore this? He had to at least tell someone, because right now, his magic was making him horribly agitated. He needed this off his chest!  
   When he entered, both Hermione and Ron looked up at him eagerly wanting to know what had happened. He told them that he would only start talking once everyone else had gone to bed.   
   When it was finally just the three of them, Harry sat rather uncomfortably on the lounge opposite the other two.  
  
   “Well, you’ve kept us up all bloody night, so what happened?” asked Ron. As much as he wasn’t eager to hear about Snape, he still wanted to know what had happened.   
  
   Harry looked nervously to his friends, feeling his heart pound. But he couldn’t keep it in any longer, and he just came out with it, “He kissed me.”   
  
   “WHAT!?” Both Ron and Hermione said in unison. The both of them looked at each other before returning their eyes to Harry.  
  
   “Surely he didn’t just take you up there to… to kiss you,” said Hermione, “Surely there was something else, right?” Of course, she was happy for Harry, but at the same time, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this could get them both in severe trouble! They couldn’t sneak around like that!  
  
   Harry just sank into his shoulders a little. “Well, it didn’t start off like that, no. He was… sort of… trying to tell me off, I think,” he said, trying to remember. Once again, everything had been a bit of a blur because of the magic that was swimming around them.   
   “I think he was trying to tell me that nothing could come out of it because I’m a student… and then… it just sort of happened. It was weird, but… it was bloody fantastic,” he grinned.   
  
   Ron tried to hide his disgust. “So does this mean he does like you back?”  
  
   “Well he didn’t _say_ he did,” Harry admitted. He didn’t say it at all, “But I think the kiss said a lot more than needed. I don’t really think he _meant_ to kiss me. Like I said, it just sort of happened, and then after it he… flew off.”  
  
   “What? He had a broom with him?” asked Ron. That seemed odd.  
  
   “No, Snape can fly,” said Hermione. “Somehow, and I don’t know how, Voldemort had taught him. It really shows just how much Voldemort had trusted him to teach him something as powerful as flight without a broom. And he’s clearly not thinking! He shouldn’t be flying at all! People are going to think Voldemort is back or something.”  
  
   Harry hadn’t thought about that, nor had he thought about the fact that Snape could indeed fly. Of course, he knew from when he’d fled the school back in the Battle of Hogwarts, but he never realised this had to have meant that Snape was very powerful. Even Dumbledore had to use Fawkes or Apparation.  
   “It’s dark out, I doubt anyone would have seen him,” Harry said, his voice trying to sound reassuring. Maybe Snape really wasn’t thinking… He hoped nothing bad had happened. He actually had the sudden urge to go and check up on the professor.  
  
   “Right, well… I think I’ve heard enough. I’m gunna head to bed,” said Ron, nodding lightly before standing up and heading to the boy’s dormitory.   
  
   Hermione gave Harry a gentle smile. “He’s still just getting used to the idea. I suppose Snape having kissed you kind of settles the deal, right?”   
  
   “Yeah, I suppose,” Harry nodded. “I don’t know about Snape, though… Now I feel a bit worried. He honestly didn’t seem himself. I mean, even in the circumstances,” he added quickly considering no one would have thought any of this to be normal for Snape.  
  
   “What exactly happened? I know you probably didn’t want to get into details with Ron being here and his feelings, but… you know I completely support your decision, Harry. Of course, I don’t want either of you getting into trouble, but I’ve read all about Ancient Magic, and I know how strong it can be. As long as nothing changes during your school hours…”  
  
   Harry had to mentally laugh at how supportive Hermione was being, even if it meant breaking school rules. He and Ron had certainly been a bad influence on her since they had met.      
   “Like I said, I think he was trying to tell me that nothing was going to happen between us. Things sort of started to blur from thereon in, though. Like, I know we kissed, but I don’t even know how we had been so close to each other. One second Snape was a few metres from me, and then we were right up against one another.” He tried to hide how flustered remembering this made him.   
  
   Hermione tried not to make Harry feel too uncomfortable, but considering Ron was no way near ready to talk about this, Hermione would be there for Harry if he needed someone to listen to and talk to.   
   “That’s your magic’s doing,” she explained. “I can tell it’s very powerful right now. It’s a bit like a drug, or a potion, really. It’s very strong. I can only imagine what Snape is going through.”   
   When Harry looked at her, she gave a light shrug, “He’s a grown wizard, Harry… I know you think your magic would be imbalanced because of your hormones, but to be honest, you’ve accepted yours. Snape is trying to fight it. That’s dangerous.”  
  
   “What’s so bad about liking me back?” Harry asked, looking somewhat hurt, “I mean… am I really that horrible?”  
  
   Hermione laughed. “Harry, it’s nothing to do with you, it’s… probably more to do with him. I’m sure he knows you’re an attractive young man, but this is Snape. The Slytherin. You can’t honestly think it’s easy for him to accept such a change of feelings, do you? He spent his whole life loving Lily, and now all of a sudden he’s developed feelings for you—Lily’s son. That can’t be easy on him. I mean… it’s not like you two are best friends or anything. Everyone _knows_ you’ve always been pretty nasty to one another.”  
  
   “But he does like me, then, right?” Harry knew it had to be difficult, and he didn’t disregard that, but would Snape ever give in? Or would he try and fight it the whole time until it just went away? _Did_ magical bonds go away?   
  
   Hermione nodded. “Yes, he does. I think his feelings are very strong, which is why he probably kissed you tonight. He’s still trying to fight it, otherwise he wouldn’t have flown away, but… yes, when it comes down to it, he does like you. I doubt he knows how to go about it, though. This _is_ Snape. And from what I got from his memories, he was pretty lousy with romance and emotions. He’s probably trying not to make the same mistakes. He’s worn a mask for a very long time, Harry. Being nice? Polite? He abandoned those things a long time ago. It got him nowhere.”   
  
   Harry looked down at the ground, not really knowing what to do. If Snape liked him, he figured it would have made things simple, but the Potions master was only making things more difficult. He wanted to kiss Snape again. He wanted to be against him. God, the feeling of Snape’s hardened member against him had felt amazing! Harry reddened at the thought.   
  
   “Just how intimate did this kiss get?” Hermione asked, seeing Harry in thought.   
  
   Honestly, Harry didn’t really know what kind of levels came with kissing, but he’d still rate theirs as rather heated and steamy. It was definitely more than what he and Ginny had done. Hell, he’d almost unbuckled the guy’s belt! Not to mention the both of them had been sporting hard-ons.   
   “It was pretty crazy,” he finally said. “It wasn’t just a peck, if that’s what you’re asking. It was sort of a full on snogging session. God, I think I tried to get his shirt off…” he mumbled, feeling embarrassed. Snape wore layers of clothes, though, so it didn’t prove to be very efficient.  
  
   Trying not to feel awkward, Hermione nodded. “Harry… do you even know how sex works with a man?”   
  
   “What?” Harry’s face went a deep red. “Well, yeah, I do, sort of. You know I’ve never dated a guy before, but I still know how it works. It’s weird… I grew up with Muggles. I always thought it was wrong to like guys… but… I think I always did.”   
  
   Hermione understood the Muggle views of prejudice. She, too, grew up with Muggles. “I think before you and Snape do anything stupid, you really need to talk to each other about this. I know Snape might try and avoid you, but he has to come around. If you don’t start accepting your relationship, then your magic is going to force it upon you… Wouldn’t you rather that moment be special?”   
  
   Having a ‘special’ moment hadn’t really crossed Harry’s mind before. Even with Ginny—although now he knew why. He honesty never really had time to think about sex. Not with Voldemort trying to kill him for so many years. But now that that was over, he was starting to finally become a normal teenager. Normal teenagers had crushes on their teachers sometimes, right?   
   “How do you think I can get him to listen to me? This is Snape. One, he’s older than me, two, he knows a lot more magic than me, and I’m starting to think that if he can fly, he’s even more powerful than me considering Voldemort is dead now.”   
  
   Harry could be right about that, but Hermione wasn’t going to make any assumptions. “I don’t know how you can convince him, but I have a feeling he’s going to become weaker to his wants. I’m sure he’ll start listening to you if you just say the right words,” she said.   
   “Sometimes I think he enjoys being snarky with you. I think it makes him still feel like he has the upper hand. God knows he’s a man who likes power. Clearly he has a desire to belong somewhere, and I think Dark Arts and power are sort of his… thing. He probably feels a bit weak and vulnerable now that both Voldemort and Dumbledore are gone. Not to mention having feelings for someone. That always makes us succumb to our vulnerabilities.”   
  
   Once more, Harry felt his cheeks flush at the thought of Snape dominating him in the bed. Harry never really considered himself a dominate or submissive character, but today had felt wonderful when Snape had pushed him up against that stone wall. Was he always like that?   
   “Then I suppose I should start thinking about what I need to say…” he murmured, looking up to his best friend again. “Thanks, Hermione, you’ve been a real help. I know it must be awkward for Ron and all, but… you’ve been really great about this.”  
  
   Hermione smiled. “You’re my friend, Harry. We’ve been through so much together, and although I thought you and Ginny would be together forever, well, I now understand why you can’t be. And now that I’ve seen how Snape’s been acting around you… I think it’s great for the both of you. Clearly you’re meant to be together. Your magic certainly thinks so. I think you make for a very charming couple.”   
  
   Harry couldn’t help but smile at that. “Thanks,” he said once more. He stayed up for a while longer, but he soon headed upstairs and went to bed.  
  
*****   
   Severus panted hard as he let his head fall down, water cascading down his back. He slammed a fist against the tiled wall as he realised what he’d just given into an hour or so ago. The scent of Potter was still lingering on him.  
   How the hell could he let it come to this? How had he allowed Potter to get to him like this? He’d been a Death Eater. He’d been Dumbledore’s and the Dark Lord’s right hand man. And now what was he? Nothing but weak to his own lust over the Gryffindor.   
   Taking the bar of soap, he washed the remnants of the scent from his body and turned the tap off before stepping out of the old tub/shower. He grabbed a towel and wiped the water from his naked body, approaching the sink after scruffing his hair in an attempt to dry it. He could have used a spell, but wizards didn’t _always_ rely on their magic.  
   With a frown, Severus lifted his hand and felt against the snake bite scars that were against his neck. Just the latest addition to his mangled body, and he looked at himself angrily in the mirror.    
The moment Potter saw any of this he would be running. He was hideous. Pale. Lack of any real muscle. Scarred horribly from childhood beatings and the Dark Lord’s torture—he’d often thought it was fun to torture his loyal subjects if he were bored. Severus had had his fair share of curses thrown at him.  
   How the hell had Potter ever grown feelings for him? He was never nice; he was cold, hate-filled… He’d killed just about everyone Harry had ever cared for! He didn’t even get a chance to know his parents! Instead, he was sent to Petunia’s house, and Merlin knew how horrible that woman could be. It made him sick! He’d put the boy through hell and back, and yet, here they were, unable to keep their hands off one another in the bloody Owlery.  
   Severus slipped his nightclothes on before heading back out of the bathroom. He’d have to talk to Potter seriously next time and tell him that this couldn’t go on. Harry could not have feelings for him, and he could not have feelings for Harry. It just wasn’t going to work. Not without something horrible happening. It always did when it came to Severus Snape. Life wasn’t fair.


	17. Date.

Chapter Seventeen: Date.   
  
**Warning: contains sexual themes**  
  
   Severus woke to the sound of wings flapping, a soft lump falling on his back. He knew it was Fawkes, so he didn’t bother looking up. The bird was clearly awake and wanting attention, though, walking up his back and picking up strands of hair and pulling on them.  
   Snape grimaced, pushing his face out of the pillow and eyeing the bird in warning. Fawkes just tilted his head and chirped.   
   “Fine,” muttered the Potions master, moving onto his back. Fawkes had become his own personal alarm so to say. The bird woke at the crack of dawn which was fairly easy for him to hear as he was a light sleeper and he was able to get up and ready before school started.  
   Today, however, was the weekend. That didn’t mean the professors here at Hogwarts had weekends like the students did, though. He’d still be grading papers, fixing up lessons and, if need be, he’d be on the lookout for more potion ingredients.   
   Of course, all of that could be done when he chose to do it, it didn’t mean today was an actual work day. And that meant that he didn’t have to get up when Fawkes did.   
   Settling himself against the pillows, Fawkes sat on his stomach atop the covers, and he let his arm slip from beneath the sheet to pat the bird.   
  
   “He really likes you, doesn’t he?”   
  
   Severus’ eyes shot to the voice that spoke, seeing no other than a half dressed Harry Potter lying beside him.  
  
   Jolting awake, Severus found himself panting, immediately looking beside him. The bed was empty, making him relax. It was just a dream. A… strange and awkward dream that had Harry Potter half naked in the bed with him, giving him a very awkward erection.  
   He looked across the room to see Fawkes with his head snuggled in between the tops of his wings. His eyes sleepily opened as if to check everything was okay, but when he saw that everything was fine he closed them again.  
   Severus, however, could not get back to sleep. Instead, he immediately pushed the sheets from the bed away and got dressed. By the time he was done, Fawkes was stretching a leg and wing in sync with one another, obviously awake.  
   He walked over to the bird, tucking a pocket watch into his pocket and adjusting his sleeve before stroking the fiery feathers. If he were any kind of sentimental man, he would have apologised for waking the phoenix up, but he didn’t. Fawkes was already leaning into the attentions which made Severus know it was fine.   
   When he was done, he opened the door that separated his chambers from his office and walked inside, leaving it open in case Fawkes wished to come out. He made himself a cup of tea before sitting in the lounge beside the fire that he lit with a wave of his hand.   
   The dream he had clung onto him like a wet cloth, though, and it bothered him. Harry had been quite attractive in his dream, of course, and the young man looked very nice in the morning light. His skin was soft, pale, like most Englishman—although still darker than his own skin, but that was to be expected. Snape wasn’t known for being in the sunlight.   
   It did make him know that the urges were getting stronger, and soon enough they may even be uncontrollable. Should he just come out and tell Harry how he really did feel? But it felt so wrong! But so right at the same time. It was all so confusing.   
   He thought he’d just end up dying alone, like the life he’d lived, but… what if this was an opportunity for him to actually mean something to someone else? More than just a pawn or a spy, but something more? Could he honestly take that chance?    
   At the same time, Snape had become accustomed to being alone—with the exception of Fawkes and his previous bird. He’d lived a life of solitude and orders. The only company he’d really had were Death Eaters who he ended up despising. Sure, there were the teachers here at Hogwarts as well, but he enjoyed his time alone, getting work done, working on new potions. Or at least he thought he did. But opening his feelings again? After Lily, it felt like such a big risk. One that he didn’t want to take just to get rejected again. He’d lost so much when he lost Lily.  
   He needed to speak to Potter. He had to explain to him what exactly was going on. He was sure if Harry had told anyone that it would have been Weasley and Granger, and Miss Granger was quite capable of telling Potter what was happening between them, but that didn’t make it certain.  
   He would have to ask. He had to talk to Harry, and this time keep it as civilised as possible. He wanted to know what the Gryffindor Golden Boy wanted to do.  
   If Potter said he didn’t want to continue this, then Snape would step back. They’d already kissed, and Snape considered that was enough for Harry to realise he was drawn to the young man. Surely Harry knew he liked him back, if not by saying it, by their magic feeling it.   
   He would also have to explain to Potter that if they were to start any kind of relationship that there would be rules—especially involving school. There was no hiding things from Albus Dumbledore, and he always went and told Minerva, but the rest of the staff and the students certainly needn’t know. Especially if he were to keep his position and Harry were to finish his studies here.   
   Yes, today he would go seek out Potter and finally talk to him and try and make everything clear, because right now it was all just a cloud of hot, heated lust and confusion. He would, of course, have to check the boy wasn’t going out for the weekend to Hogsmeade or anything.   
   First, he would finish his tea and then grab some breakfast from the Great Hall. His dream had made him awfully hungry, even if it wasn’t for food.   
  
*****  
   Dressed in his normal Muggle clothes, Harry sat with Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall. Considering it was the weekend, many of the other students had already left Hogwarts to go down to the small villages, and some of them were still asleep. That didn’t mean breakfast changed on the weekends, though.  
   Harry had a bowl of warm porridge in front of him, and Ron was eating bacon and eggs. Hermione had a warm mug of hot chocolate in her palms as the weather was getting much cooler now.    
   Only some of the teachers were at the High Table, but much to Harry’s delight, Snape was there. He only stole a small glance of the professor, but that was because he didn’t want Ron and Hermione asking about it.  
   Ron hadn’t asked anything else about last night, and Harry was okay with that. He hardly wanted to talk sex with Ron. As strange as it sounded, it was actually more comfortable to talk to Hermione about personal things. Probably because the both of them had grown up in a Muggle world. She was a lot more understanding as well.   
   When their breakfast was gone and the dishes were removed, they finally decided to go outside into the courtyard. It was cold, but at least the sun was out today, and they were able to sit on the stone seats.   
   Harry could hear Hermione asking Ron about how much homework he was going to get done over this weekend. Ron was trying to protest, but he knew eventually the boy would cave. His mind, however, was somewhere else.  
   Coming out of the castle, he saw Professor Snape. Immediately, he wondered what Snape had done yesterday after they had kissed. Did Snape completely regret it? Or… would he want to go further? Well, he was walking his way, so maybe he was about to find out. He did wish he was by himself when he saw Ron and Hermione look up, though.  
  
   “Potter, can I have a word with you?” Snape said, completely keeping his eyes off the other two students. If Potter had told them what happened… and he was pretty sure he probably had, that just made him feel horribly awkward.   
  
   “Yeah, sure,” Harry said, more than eager to be alone with the professor again. Maybe something even better would happen.   
  
   “This might take some time, so if you have other plans for the day, it can wait,” suggested the Slytherin, which was oddly polite for him when it came to Potter.    
  
   Harry shook his head, standing from his seat. “No, it’s fine, Professor,” he smiled, looking back to his friends. “I’ll meet you guys in the library later, okay?” When Ron and Hermione nodded, he followed Snape across the courtyard.   
   The professor was quiet for most of the time until they reached somewhere secluded, but still in the sunlight. Harry was surprised Snape wasn’t dragging him down to the dungeons or somewhere else. But he had to admit, he was glad he didn’t, because Snape looked very nice out in the sunlight.   
   Eventually, Snape stopped and so did he. He wanted to jump at the urge and ask about yesterday and if Snape had enjoyed it, or if he was just going to scold him over the whole thing. Hell, it hadn’t been his fault, Snape had been the one to make a move! He just followed, and enjoyed it very, very much.   
  
   “Potter, I wanted to discuss the events of yesterday,” Severus finally spoke, leaning a hand against the willow tree that he’d decided was a good enough and secluded area. He could still see if someone was going to come their way, and it was out of the sunlight while still being outside. He figured Potter was an outside kind of person. After all, he was a Gryffindor and had played Quidditch.   
  
   Harry nodded gently. “I know, you’re going to say don’t ever talk about it again and that it was a mistake, aren’t you?” he said, his voice heavy in disappointment. Now that they were alone again, he could feel their magic already getting strong, but it did seem more subdued than usual. He wondered if that was because of the kiss they’d shared yesterday.   
  
   Severus put his hands behind his back and shook his head. “No, that was not what I was going to say,” he said, Harry’s green eyes meeting with his in surprise. He smirked a little, but kept it hidden well.   
   “Clearly our magic has… connected and formed some kind of bond. I don’t know if you understand anything about this particular Ancient Magic, but if you’ve discussed the happenings with your friends, I assume Miss Granger has informed you what it may mean.”   
  
   Harry felt his cheeks warm a little. “Sorry… I probably shouldn’t have, but, yes, Hermione told me a bit about it. I don’t know how much more there is to know, and I’m sure there’s things she doesn’t want to talk to me about, but yes. I know some things.”   
  
   Of course Granger would know all about it. Severus mentally rolled his eyes. “I don’t expect you to keep secrets, Potter, I’m well aware of what you’ve gotten up to in the past,” he said sharply. “But you do understand that it is against the rules of Hogwarts that a professor and a student pursue a relationship. More specifically… a romantic relationship.”    
  
   Once more, Harry felt his cheeks warm and he averted his eyes from Snape, his heart beginning to palpitate. “I-I know, yeah,” he murmured, his eyes going to the ground. But his chin was brought up, his senses prickling as Snape’s hand touched him and lifted his chin so he would look at him. Harry didn’t object.  
  
   “What do you want, Harry?” Snape asked. He’d thought about it a long time, and he knew deep down that he did want a relationship with Harry. As much as he’d wanted to hide it and force it away, his magic wouldn’t allow him. He’d hated it, and it would take him a long time to ever come to terms with liking James Potter’s son, but this was out of his control with his magic.  
   Yesterday had only been the beginning of what could happen to them! And though their magic was behaving today (simply because of yesterday’s kiss), it didn’t mean it would stay that way. He knew it would come back again and again until they made their relationship consummated. Through intimacy.  
  
   At the sound of his first name, Harry felt his cheeks blush once more. Snape was actually _asking_ him? But… surely he already _knew_ he liked him! He’d told him, not to mention he’d tried to get his pants off yesterday!  
   All of a sudden, he became rather confident in what he wanted. He wanted Severus Snape, the man that had been protecting him since the day he’d come to Hogwarts. The head of Slytherin and Potions master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The man he’d been bickering with since he came here.    
   “I’m afraid what I want is against the rules, Professor…” he finally said, Snape’s hand leaving him. He was disappointed when the sense of magic disappeared from him, but he continued to watch the rather unreadable expression that Snape had on his face.  
  
   Snape gave a simple nod—despite the wave of emotions that slapped him across the face that Harry Potter, the wizard he’d picked on profusely through the years, had some kind of feelings for him.   
   “Potter, you must realise that if we carry on a relationship that we must be discreet. If any student or professor suspects such a thing, the both of us could lose our positions here at Hogwarts.”  
  
   Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. Snape actually wanted a relationship? Harry’s heart was thumping now, flipping circles in his chest, and he was positive Snape could feel it through their magic.   
   “Wait,” he said, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair, “you’re… you want to be… with me? You… actually like me?” he asked. He tried not to laugh or anything, but his insides were jumping with pure delight! He felt almost hysterical! This was not something that he ever would have thought possible.   
  
   Severus found himself looking away from Harry quite awkwardly. Well, he’d admitted it to himself, but that didn’t mean he actually liked _saying_ it. It made him seem sentimental when he didn’t honestly see himself as that kind of person.   
   “I would have thought yesterday’s event had spoken for itself,” he said, looking back to Harry, who seemed to have gone a rather satisfying shade of pink in the cheeks. Severus didn’t think himself as a truly sadistic man, he could easily just disregard things that he had to when working. But he did enjoy the sight of Harry blushing so easily. His mind could be cruel, he could be cruel, but it didn’t mean he would ever hurt someone unless he thought they’d deserved it.  
  
   Swallowing hard, Harry grinned almost stupidly, running a hand against the back of his neck. “Then what do we do? You said we can’t be seen, I mean… well, it is a weekend, and I’d really like to actually talk to you more.” It all came out in a very bad jumble of words and Harry found himself looking at a rather scrutinising Snape.   
  
   “Calm down, Potter,” the Slytherin smirked, putting his hand onto Harry’s shoulder. “I would like to do this properly.”  
  
   “Properly?” Harry gave a look of confusion. He really knew nothing about being in a relationship. Sure, he’d been with Ginny, but… she was a girl, and he could easily just grab a bunch of flowers and present them to her. This was Snape! He… didn’t even know what the man liked to do in his spare time, let alone know how to be in a relationship with him. This was so awkward!  
  
   “Considering how it may look if we were out in public, I do apologise that it isn’t exactly your desired location, but I would like if you joined me in my lounge for a drink,” Snape said, giving a light shrug as if it were little to nothing—despite the fact he was expecting rejection after rejection after rejection.   
  
   Harry, on the other hand, felt his head pound at the thought of joining Snape. “Um… like a date?” he asked, seeing the professor tense at the word. Harry smiled a little. Snape wasn’t all just cold, bitter and snarky remarks, he was definitely awkward and probably just as nervous. He just didn’t show it as easily.   
  
   “I wouldn’t call it that…” said Severus, brushing a lock of hair swiftly from his face.   
  
   “But it is, right?”  
  
   “Fine, a date, Potter. Whatever you want to call it. Do you want to attend or not?” snapped the Potions master.  
  
   Harry grinned, enjoying flustering the man. He may be shy, but he had a feeling Severus Snape wasn’t as brutal as he made himself out to be. “Sure, I’d love to, Professor. Um… do I still call you that?”  
  
   “I think it would be best kept formally in public, but if you wish, you may call me by my first name in private.” He still rather enjoyed the fact that Potter would call him ‘Professor’. Plus, they were used to the formal terms, so he wasn’t expecting either of them to change to a first name status in a day.   
  
   “Well… it’s the weekend, and we’re alone, _Severus_ ,” Harry said, testing the name against his tongue almost snake-like. To be honest, it wasn’t the first time he’d ever said it, but still. He didn’t make it a thing to call Snape by his first name.   
  
   The Potions master just gave the Gryffindor a flat look. “Seven tonight, Potter,” he stated, moving past Harry to head back inside. Harry had no idea what talking like a snake did to Slytherins. After Nagini, Severus may not be as fond of snakes as he once was, but he was still a pure Slytherin.  
  
   “Professor,” Harry started, turning and following him, “should I… bring something? I’ve um… never really gone on a date before.”   
  
   Severus could have laughed considering it was his first ‘date’ as well. “The elves can take care of that, Potter, you don’t need to trouble yourself. It’s just a drink…”  
  
   “You mean date,” Harry grinned.  
  
   Snape rolled his eyes, frowning. “Potter,” he grumbled in warning, the boy just giving him that damn cheeky grin of his. Snape did mentally smile at it, much enjoying the sight of Harry being more relaxed around him.  
   “You may return to your friends now, Potter. I will see you this evening.”  
  
   “I’d like to walk back with you,” said Harry, looking up awkwardly for a moment, “That’s—erm—if you don’t mind, sir.”    
  
   Severus just looked at the young man for a moment. He was very new to this whole thing, and he’d changed since he was a young boy himself. He didn’t forget how shy and willing he was around Lily Evans, but he found it hard to give into his more childish side these days.   
   He did give a small nod, though. “If you wish. I am headed back to the castle anyway, I suppose it wouldn’t be too tedious.”   
  
   “Hey, you’re the one that kissed me, sir.”  
  
   To that, Snape swallowed hard, and he did feel the blood inside his body go to his pale cheeks. “Well… let’s just… get back inside, shall we?”  
  
   Harry grinned in surprise at the small colour in Snape’s cheeks. “Is that… a blush, Professor Snape?”   
  
   “Potter! Just get back inside.”   
  
   Harry’s grin only grew wider. “I didn’t think Professor Snape could blush. I think I quite like it.”  
  
   “Potter, I’m warning you. I am still your superior.” Severus felt awfully awkward now, and he quickened his pace across the grounds.   
  
   “You should do it more… I like it when you’re not so stern,” said Harry, trying to keep up. He saw Snape’s expression change, and their eyes met as the older man stopped in his tracks. “Sir?”   
  
   Severus just eyed the boy, trying to fight the urge to both throttle him and push him to the ground. He just huffed, continuing. “Come, you don’t wish to leave your friends waiting.”   
  
   When Snape started moving again, Harry was able to keep a better pace with him as the professor decided walking slower for a change wasn’t so bad. It was quiet for most of the time, but Harry didn’t want to push him any further, or fluster him anymore. He knew things were going to be awkward for a while, but hopefully tonight’s date would allow them to open up and get to know each onto on a more personal level.  
  
*****  
   “A… date!?” Ron said, looking horrified. When Harry had come back, he’d explained what had happened between him and Professor Snape. Hermione seemed more than happy, but he, on the other hand? He didn’t know if he could get used to his best friend being with Snape.   
  
   “I can’t believe he asked…” Hermione’s voice was soft, but it held a great deal of excitement. “I knew he had feelings for you, but… You do realise that you two could get into serious trouble for this, don’t you!?” Her voice was soft as they were sitting in the library.  
  
   Harry shrugged. “It’s not like we’re doing anything in public. Honestly, Hermione, I think McGonagall and Dumbledore support this.”  
  
   “How the hell do you know that?” asked Ron.   
  
   “Well, when I spoke to Dumbledore’s portrait, I got the feeling that he was trying to tell me to continue trying, that Snape liked me back, but was just being stubborn about it. Which was true,” Harry stated, a hand coming out. “And Hagrid’s been super supportive when we went with him into the Forbidden Forest-,”  
  
   “Hagrid knows about this!? Since when!?” Ron’s voice had gone rather high at this knowledge and Hermione shushed him, looking around the library.    
  
   Harry looked guilty as he hadn’t told Ron about much of anything when it came to him and Snape. But with the way Ron was acting now, he figured it wouldn’t have helped any.   
   “Well… apparently McGonagall had been talking to him. He told me that when we were in the Forest. Made it pretty clear to keep trying with Snape as well. I sort of thought it was annoying that everyone kept making me try and try, but… I suppose it worked, right?”  
  
   “Of course. He’s asked you out!”  
  
   “Yeah, he doesn’t tend to call it a ‘date’,” Harry said, rolling his eyes as he made quotations marks with his fingers.   
  
   Hermione laughed. “Well no. You’ve got to understand that Snape’s not exactly Gryffindor in nature,” she smiled. “I still think you should dress nicely, though. And I think you should take something. It would be a nice gesture.”  
  
   “Hermione, it’s just a drink. I’m sure we’ll just sit there in utter silence the whole night and awkwardly look around the room or something.” Harry gave an aggravated sigh. “I’m actually really nervous about all of this. What if it turns out to be a complete disaster!?”   
  
   “It won’t, Harry,” said the girl, her voice clearly reassuring. “You two have very strong magic, and you have more in common than you think. Just be yourself. Obviously he likes that. Just… be careful if you want to bring up your family or his past.”   
  
   That hadn’t skipped Harry’s mind. He knew somewhere down the track he was going to ask about his parents. He knew it might be selfish of him, but he wanted to know about them. He’d try his best to keep Sirius and James out of it, for the sake of bad memories for Snape, but he really did wish to know about his mother—as awkward as it might be considering he knew Snape had feelings for her.   
   “Don’t worry, I’ll try my best to keep things civil,” Harry reassured. He couldn’t help but feel horribly nervous about this, though. The waiting was going to be the worst. He was eager and anxious at the same time. He wanted more than anything to be in the same room as Snape, and yet he was horrified at the same time.   
   He really hoped everything would go as smooth as possible. He’d just have to wait and see.  
  
*****   
   After Hermione had helped get him dressed up, Harry was in a dark pinstriped shirt. He didn’t really have any nice clothes here, but he found the best he could work with. It was a little long, but Hermione had worked a charm on it so it was more fitting. He only had some black jeans, though. It looked nice enough he figured.  
   He tried to brush his hair down a little bit, but it didn’t help any. He cursed his father’s messy hair, but it would have to do. Hermione had also offered making up something to give Snape as a thanks, but Harry honestly knew nothing to what Snape may like. He felt guilty, but he would try and explain it when he was actually there.   
   It was night time, and most of the students were in their own common-rooms. He thanked God for that, because walking down to the dungeons dressed like this would have seemed awfully suspicious…   
   Eventually, he reached the Slytherin’s office and knocked on the door. As soon as his knuckles tapped against the surface, he already started feeling like he should just run away. No, Gryffindor’s were brave, and they followed their hearts. He could to this. Hell, he’d walked into battle before! But, damnit, he felt like he was sweating up a storm over here.  
   As the door opened, Harry’s eyes looked up to the professor who was out of his usual coat and black robes, wearing a white shirt, cravat still around his neck. Harry swallowed at just how gorgeous the man looked when he had lighter colours on. He had a pair of black trousers on which wasn’t anything new, but it went well against his shirt.   
   When he stepped in, he saw that the back of the office was open, which lead into a small sitting area he was led through, seeing a small table and some chairs inside by the fireplace. He presumed all the teachers offices had their personal quarters in them. Fawkes was sitting on his perch near the fire, looking up gleefully at the sight of Harry.   
   “You look… really nice, Professor,” he murmured, feeling his cheeks go rosy red. He looked down, though, looking at his empty hands. “I-uh… I didn’t really know what you would like, so I kinda figured it might be best if I just didn’t bring anything. I wanted to, but… well, I just didn’t really know what you may like.”  
  
   At the compliment, Severus tried to brush it away. He wasn’t used to taking compliments, and they did make him feel very awkward. He closed the door when Harry stepped in and put a ward on it so no one would disturb him. They could knock, but the door wouldn’t open. As much as he’d like no disturbances, he was still a teacher and if a student (or another professor) needed him, he had to tend to the issue—even on weekends.   
   “I already informed you that you needn’t bring anything. The elves have that sorted,” he stated, taking Harry’s clothes in. He looked absolutely stunning, his green eyes complimented by the dark shirt. Snape very much enjoyed the sight of the young man dressed up.  
   “Take a seat,” he offered, Harry walking over and sitting down awkwardly. Truth be told, he was feeling just as awkward. He had a feeling Harry was going to ask him personal questions that he didn’t want to answer, but if they were going to form some kind of a relationship, then he figured things needed to be exposed. He wouldn’t base anything off a lie.   
  
   Harry sat down, watching as the plate on the small table filled up with food. The elves clearly had done their work. There was some cake and some pumpkin juice. He didn’t expect Snape to give him anything alcoholic. They were on school grounds and he was still a student—even if over the age.   
   Fawkes happily flew over to him and he greeted him with a gentle pat on the back, Fawkes’ feathers fluffing up gently. “He really likes it here, huh?” he asked, Snape taking a seat across from him and crossing a leg over the other. Harry tried desperately not to stare at the man, but it was hard not to. He looked absolutely lovely—not that anyone else would agree with him. He was well aware what others thought of the Head of Slytherin.   
  
   “Fawkes has certainly taken an interest to being a Slytherin.” The bird looked up and squawked in protest. Snape just smirked.   
  
   Harry laughed. “Bright red and orange? I think your House is going to start questioning where your loyalties lie.”  
  
   Snape leant back a little. “Not the first time, Potter.”   
  
   Harry looked up, seeing the man looking at him. “Sorry… I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, frowning gently.   
  
   “Don’t apologise, Potter, I had my reasons to act the way I did,” Severus said, his elbows leaning on the arms of the lounge as he placed his hands together in front of him.  
   “I assume there are some things you’d wish for me to answer tonight. I offered this-,”  
  
   “Date?” Harry smirked.  
  
   Severus put his hands down onto the arms of the lounge and glared at the Gryffindor. “I offered you to come here tonight because I know there are things that need to come out into the open. Don’t expect me to answer every one of your questions. Our magic may have bonded, but I assure you, it will take time for our personalities to.” That was obvious.  
  
   Harry didn’t object to that. He knew very well that he and Snape weren’t always on the same page—if ever, to be honest. Then again, maybe Hermione had been right. Maybe they did have more in common than they thought. They had both been loyal to Dumbledore, and that had to be something.   
   Putting Fawkes onto the arm of the lounge, Harry leant forward, still feeling horribly awkward. He looked into the fireplace, though, his hands going between his knees. “Why did you become a Death Eater in the first place? I mean… you didn’t seem evil in your memories. Death Eaters were bad people, and I think you knew that, but you joined them anyway… Do you really hate Muggleborns?” he asked, eyes going back to the professor.   
  
   Snape looked away for a moment, thinking of what to say. He figured the whole Death Eater thing would come up tonight, and he folded his arms so the tattoo on his arm couldn’t be seen beneath the white shirt of his.   
   It was actually rather pathetic, to be honest, how he’d become a Death Eater. He was always interested in the Dark Arts, but that wasn’t the real reason why he’d joined. He’d joined because he thought it might impress Lily to be a part of something powerful. He soon found out that was the wrong decision.   
   “You know I don’t hate them, Potter. Your mother was a Muggleborn, and I certainly didn’t hate her,” he said, looking back to the Gryffindor. “As for joining the Death Eaters… I was young and stupid. I wanted my peers to like me, and it was somewhere I finally felt welcome. I’ve regretted it for a very long time.”  
   Besides, the Death Eaters had not been as cruel as they had become when they started out. They had stood for many great things as well. Time and the return of the Dark Lord had obviously made things worse for them, but it was not like that at the start.   
  
   Harry just looked at the other. “You must have had a reason to join them, though. People don’t just join cults because they were stupid. Something had to make you want to join. If it wasn’t your hatred for Muggleborns, then what exactly was it?”  
  
   Snape was starting to regret this now. He knew Lily would come up, it was inevitable, she was Potter’s mother, but that didn’t mean he was going to be comfortable talking about it. He didn’t want it to be a friction point for them either. He may have loved Lily, and part of him always may, but he did have feelings for Harry, and he didn’t want the Gryffindor to feel shadowed by Lily.    
   Standing up, he moved over to Fawkes who had flown back to his perch, if only to allow him not to look at Harry when he was speaking. “I’ve always been intrigued by the Dark Arts, it’s why I spent years trying to get the position here at Hogwarts. I would have thought I could teach you some useful spells as well, but Dumbledore refused the position constantly in fear that I may have a relapse to my…” he paused, “darker nature as a Death Eater…”   
  
   Harry swallowed, though listening intently. He knew Snape had done terrible things in his past, and he was the last person he figured would be attracted to someone so dark, but somehow he was. But that had been in the past. Snape had changed. He still had a dark side, but he figured that was just because it’s all he knew now. He didn’t have much of a chance when he was harassed by his school peers.   
   “But you’re not like that anymore,” he said softly, seeing Snape’s hands go to his side. “You’re a good man. You did as you promised, you spied for Dumbledore. Fawkes wouldn’t have come to you if he didn’t trust you.”  
  
   “Potter, don’t turn my actions into that of a hero,” Severus said sharply, turning around to look at the boy. “I was a cruel boy, and I always had been. I don’t deny my dark nature, and at times I embrace it. I did things that are unspeakable in my time. Dumbledore had all the right to mistrust me-,”  
  
   “Dumbledore was the only one that _did_ trust you!”   
  
   “Only because he made a constant reminder of why I was here!” Snape snapped. “Every day I came here he would make sure I remembered what I had done and caused. Made sure that I was here to protect you. To spy for the Dark Lord. Dumbledore was like a father to me in my time of need, more than a father than my real father was. And in the end, he made me do the unspeakable.”   
  
   Harry stood up from his seat. “I trust you…” he said, Snape’s dark eyes on his own.   
  
   Snape turned so he was facing Harry. “I joined the Death Eaters because I wanted to impress Lily,” he said honestly and bluntly. “I thought that by being in a group of powerful beings, it might make her look up to me considering I was constantly overshadowed by your father and his group of idiotic friends.” If he wanted to know so much, then there, he could know. Maybe it would change his mind on him being a hero when he wasn’t.  
  
   Harry just stared. Something in him wanted to laugh, but he knew he shouldn’t. It just sounded funny… But how on earth could he have ever thought that!? All he heard about his mother was that she was so caring and loving in nature, and Death Eaters were anything but! Surely Snape knew it was a bad idea!   
   “Oh…” he said, looking away in lack of anything better. He didn’t exactly want to offend the professor. He was here and talking about it. He’d asked, after all…   
  
   “Not ‘oh’, Potter, it was bloody stupid of me,” Snape sneered. “And because I let things get out of hand and insulted her, my hatred only grew further for Gryffindor’s, and your father certainly didn’t help with that. Nor did Black.”  
  
   As Snape walked over to the fireplace, Harry just watched. He didn’t quite know what to say… It all sounded so awful when Snape talked about it. Like he constantly berated himself for his actions. Of course they were bad!   
   He knew Snape wasn’t perfect, but he could see through all of that. Snape came back. He helped them so much. He knew his father had been mean. He didn’t know the full extent, but if what he saw in Snape’s memories was just a taste? Part of him didn’t _want_ to know… It made him feel ashamed.  
   Maybe it was the Gryffindor in him, but he couldn’t hate Snape for saving his life numerous amounts of times and trying to protect his family when he found out the Prophecy meant him (and Lily).  
   Harry didn’t know if it was his magic pulling him in, but he stepped up behind Snape and placed a hand against his arm. “I don’t hate you, if that’s what you’re trying to make me do… I don’t see your Dark Mark as your past. I see it as your accomplishments. You, by yourself, made Voldemort trust you, and in doing that you kept me safe. You kept many others safe as well.”   
  
   “Gryffindors…” Snape muttered, looking down to the hand that was on his arm. He could also feel Harry behind him, his magic strong. His body froze as he realised just how close they were once more, and it made a very hot rush of energy go through him from his own magic calling back.   
  
   Harry’s lips parted as their magic connected once more. He instantly wanted to pull back, and he knew he shouldn’t have come so close considering what had happened last time, but, damnit, it was so strong. He could feel his heart palpitating in his chest, ringing in his ears, and his breath picked up, his fingers taking the sleeve gently and pulling it up softly to reveal the pale, tattooed arm.   
  
   Exhaling shakily, Severus swallowed gently, looking at his exposed arm. “Potter… don’t…” he tried to say, his magic defying the fact that he wanted to push the Gryffindor away from him—only because he knew this was moving too fast.   
   Of course he wanted Harry against him. He wanted it more than anything right now, but they couldn’t do that! It was too early! And even if he was more than excited at the young wizard’s touch, he knew it couldn’t happen. But it was so damn good against him that every moral line was beginning to grow fuzzy—even if he was a well reserved wizard.  
  
   “I think it looks nice on you,” Harry said, just as dazed as Snape was. He could feel the rush of energy go through the both of them, and he knew Snape was just as excited as he was. “I… would really like to return that kiss you gave me.”  
  
   “That’s a bad idea,” Snape said, though his voice defying his words as it was spoken in such a soft tone. He looked down at the Gryffindor as Harry had somehow moved in front of him, and he felt his buttons being undone, his neck being exposed as the cravat was undone.   
   It felt so good against his skin. Harry’s hands were so soft, just how he thought they would be. Caring. Defining every detail. His breath got caught in his throat as his shoulder soon became exposed. No, they couldn’t do this! He had to gain control. This was too fast!  
  
   “That snake really did a number on you,” Harry murmured dazedly, touching the scars on Severus’ body. His wrist was taken, though; stopping him from going any further, even though he could feel the pulsing member against his thigh.  
  
   “No, we can’t do this,” Snape said, pushing Harry’s wrists down, even though his body was begging for him to continue. Merlin, he felt like he was going to explode! He was disgusted and ashamed in himself for letting himself get so carried away so easily.  
  
   Harry felt disappointed, his magic still reaching out to the body against him. His hands hadn’t undone all of the buttons, just the top few, but he still enjoyed the sight of the pale skin beneath the white shirt, and he wanted to see so much more.   
   “Professor… please…” he said needily, not even recognising his own voice. Bloody hell, this magic was strong! He knew it was wrong for them to go any further, but he couldn’t help it! He wanted it so much! His whole body was radiating and pulsing, and he could smell Snape’s magic, sending him into a pile of lust. He’d never felt anything like this before!    
   “You know it’s not going to stop. You know it’s not going to stop until we…” He stopped, looking at those dark eyes, small slithers of brown being lit from the fireplace. And he couldn’t help himself. He leant up, pressing his lips into Severus’.  
  
   Snape felt his eyes close as those soft lips pressed against his own. Merlin, it was amazing. His hands slowly left Harry’s wrists and fell down to the young man’s slender hips. He could feel his erection pulsing heatedly against his thigh.  
  
   A whimper came from Harry’s lips as his hands clutched at Snape’s shirt on his arms. “Pro-,” he gasped, feeling their groins pressed against one another’s. He couldn’t see Snape’s member, but dear God the feel of it was wondrous against him.   
   His senses went haywire and his body was on autopilot, the magic around them pulsing. And all of a sudden he felt a very hot sensation run through his body, his knees almost buckling as he lost lip contact and fell into Snape’s chest, panting.  
  
   Severus grabbed Harry as he thought he was about to fall, the Gryffindor shuddering. “Potter… did-did you just…?”  
  
   “I’m s-so sorry…!” Harry whispered in pure embarrassment as he felt hot, sticky semen dribble down his thigh from beneath his pants.


	18. Snakes and Lions

Chapter Eighteen: Snakes and Lions.   
  
   Harry felt horribly humiliated as he realised what had just happened. He was still trembling, hands clutching Snape’s arms. He didn’t want to look up, or even move. In fact, all he wanted to do was crawl in a hole and hide forever.   
   How embarrassing! They hadn’t even been naked or doing anything! And he just… came.   
  
   “Potter, it’s quite alright,” said Snape, feeling their magic loosen.   
  
   “I just…”  
  
   “Yes, I’m well aware of what happened,” Severus murmured, gaining control over himself once more. He took his hands from Harry once he found his feet and did his buttons back up. “Through there, my quarters have a lavatory. You can change if you wish.”   
  
   Harry looked up. “Into what!? I didn’t exactly bring a spare change of clothes with me!”   
  
   Snape rolled his eyes. “Go in there, get undressed and give them a bloody _Scourgify_ charm! Unless you need me to assist with that, too?”   
  
   Harry went a very bright shade of red at the thought of Snape seeing him naked. No! Tonight he’d had enough embarrassment and excitement—clearly.    
   Moving awkwardly, he opened the door that led to Snape’s quarters and looked around, seeing the extra room that was a bathroom. He instantly moved into it and closed the door hurriedly. Could tonight be any more embarrassing!?  
   Once getting inside, he slapped a hand against his forehead. “You moron!” he whispered to himself, awkwardly taking his pants off. He looked around the room as if to search that no one was in here. It was clean and tidy. Small, but clean. And, of course, it was shades of silver and green. It screamed Slytherin Pride.   
   Removing his undies, he took his wand from his pants pocket and gave them a quick _Scourgify_ charm, watching the sticky, wet patches disappear from the insides of his pants and underwear.   
  
   Outside, Snape sat himself in the chair he’d been sitting in previously tonight, running a hand through his hair. He was glad that their magic was behaving since Harry had released himself, but he did feel rather awkward about the whole thing. Was it going to be like this all the time!? They couldn’t be in the same room without touching one another? How the hell was he supposed to teach Potions when Harry was in his class?   
   He knew this had been a bad idea. He wanted Harry horribly, but at the cost of losing his job and Harry getting kicked out of school? He certainly didn’t want that, but with the way their magic was acting, how was it possible to act normally?  
   At hearing the door open in the other room, he looked back up, Harry still wearing a shade of pink on his cheeks as he awkwardly entered the lounge. “Better?”   
  
   Harry swallowed, feeling awkward as hell. “I’m r-really sorry, Professor,” he started, Snape lifting a hand. He instantly fell silent.  
  
   “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Potter,” he stated, leaning back in his seat. “Ancient Magic is very powerful, it could have happened to anyone in such a situation.”  
  
   “You didn’t,” Harry said, sounding ashamed of himself.   
  
   Snape’s expression went blank. “No, I did not, but I am older than you are, and I am more in control of my magic and body.” Not by much by the way he felt, but even so.   
  
   Now Harry felt even more humiliated. He knew he’d never been great at controlling his magic, but this was beyond that! He’d just come inside his pants while being against Severus Snape.   
   “Should I just go?”   
  
   Severus just looked at the younger wizard. He was that humiliated? “Harry, I am not keeping you here, nor does your accident deter me from you. If you truly feel uncomfortable, then you may go, but I would still enjoy your company.”   
  
   “You’re not… mad at me or anything?” Harry asked. It would take a long time for him to get over this. He’d just completely embarrassed himself in front of Snape.   
  
   Snape’s expression turned into a confused one, making him stand up. “Potter, why in the hell would I be mad at you for something completely natural to a wizard’s body?” he asked sceptically.   
  
   “I dunno… I just thought…” Harry stopped, looking away and giving a sigh. He remembered when he was back in the Dursleys and had had an exciting dream. Aunt Petunia had scolded him for ‘ruining the sheets’ of his bed. She made a horrible deal out of it and it had been very embarrassing at his age. Dudley had, of course, told all of his school friends.  
   “I just thought that it would have made things awkward. I mean, this whole time we’ve been trying to fight these magical urges, and when we’re close I can feel it just… taking control of me. Half of the time I don’t even know where I am, and I can just feel you, or your magic, or whatever it is. It’s so intense and I just… thought you’d be disappointed in me or grossed out by it.”   
  
   Watching Harry curiously, Severus put his hands into his pockets. “Would it help if I told you that you are not the only wizard in the world to experience such a thing?”   
  
   “Sorry, but no,” Harry mumbled, patting Fawkes to try and take his mind off his own humiliation. Suddenly, and almost ghost-like, Harry felt the warmth of Snape being behind him, a hand on his shoulder. He soon felt the man’s hair against his own as he leant down.  
  
   “Would it help if I told you that I didn’t mind it happening?” Though Snape’s voice was as cool as ever, he was also a bit embarrassed over the whole thing. He was simply an adult, though. He knew things like this could happen. He’d been in love once, and Lily had made him crazy sometimes. Shy, but crazy.  
  
   Harry instantly blushed, feeling his heart pound. He swallowed, looking over his shoulder as Snape moved away and went across the room to pick up a goblet, taking a sip of whatever was inside it.   
   He watched him take a drink before gazing into the fire. It raised a lot of questions and excitement, but Harry had to know something. “Professor… does this mean that we have to… have sex?”   
  
   Snape instantly looked at the Gryffindor. “Who told you that?” As much as he liked Harry, he knew that was not going to happen any time soon! Even if ever! He wasn’t exactly known for being a sexual deviant. In fact, he was quite content with never having it if it weren’t for his damn magic forcing them. He may be a man, and desire would always be there, but he preferred his silence, his books and potions over human contact.   
  
   Not wanting to get Hermione in trouble, Harry didn’t say a name. “Professor… I like you, and clearly my magic likes you, and it _really_ wants you… but is that all this is about? What happens when we do it? Afterwards, will it all go away? We won’t like each other, like some sort of animal? Is that all you want from me?”   
  
   Feeling himself get angry, Severus’ hands clenched. “Potter, do you take me for some cold-hearted Slytherin that wants nothing but your body!? Is that honestly how you see me? That I will toss you aside once I’ve… _defiled_ you?”   
  
   Harry swallowed, his lips parting as he was going to say something. He frowned, realising how badly that must have sounded, though. Maybe he should just shut up.   
  
   Snape nodded once. “I see…” he muttered sharply. “Well, now that you’ve had your release for the night, you can get out of my office.”  
  
   Looking up, Harry’s brows arched at the cold tone. “Professor…?”  
  
   “Yes, Potter, I am your professor, and clearly that is all we are meant to be. So you will have no trouble closing the door on your way out and getting your homework done before your next class, unless you want points taken from your House and to disappoint your little friends,” the Slytherin hissed.   
  
   Harry’s face twisted into anger. He was seriously going to be like this!? He didn’t mean it in a bad way, he’d just been asking a question!   
   “Fine! I wouldn’t want to be seen with a Slytherin anyway!” he yelled, storming towards the door and walking out, even if he was still embarrassed.   
  
   As the door slammed, Severus sat back down, giving an aggravated sigh. How dare Harry think that of him!? That all he wanted to do was fuck him and then toss him aside! He was well aware what his (and Harry’s) magic was trying to make them do, but that did not mean he _wanted_ that from Harry and then that was it.  
   Of course, part of him wanted to lay with the Gryffindor. He had feelings for him, didn’t he? But that didn’t mean he saw Harry as an object and nothing more! He’d tried to disregard of these stupid feelings for months now, and now that they finally started making something out of it, Potter has to say something stupid and selfish like that!? Making him out to be nothing but a violating snake!   
   He kicked the table with his boot, Fawkes flapping his wings at the disturbance. Fine, if Potter wanted to walk away then he could. If Potter wanted nothing more from him, then he’d give him nothing. This ‘relationship’ was as good as over. It was stupid in the first place! He knew he should have just ignored it from the start!  
  
*****  
   Harry stormed back by himself in the corridors of Hogwarts. It was even darker now, but he didn’t care. He felt horribly agitated and angry, and he just wanted to punch Snape in the face. Stupid moody Slytherin. They never said what they wanted! They always just kept things to themselves. How the hell was he supposed to read the man or know what he wanted when he never actually answered him up straight!? He wasn’t a bloody mind-reader!   
   At least his mind was off the embarrassing moment that had happened earlier tonight. He didn’t think he’d tell Ron and Hermione about that at all. It was horribly embarrassing and Snape had explained that it was normal when the magic was so strong. Still made him feel awfully embarrassed, and now that things hadn’t gone as planned, he was a bit paranoid Snape would laugh behind his back at his pre-ejaculation. God, what if he told other teachers? Snape was pretty vengeful…    
   As he reached the Gryffindor common-room, he stepped in. It wasn’t bed time, so students were still up and about, and he saw Ron and Hermione look up and him, heading across the room.  
  
   “Harry, you’re back much earlier than I was thinking…” Hermione said, concern in her voice, “Is everything alright?”  
  
   At least the sight of his friends made him calm down a little, but Harry was still frustrated, and he probably would be for a while.   
   “I’m fine,” he muttered, sitting himself down roughly on the chair.  
  
   Ron gave Hermione a worried glance. “Mate, you don’t sound it. Did that git do something to hurt you!?” Instantly, Ron went into a rather protective stance, as if he was about to march down to the dungeons and start something.   
  
   Harry ran a hand down his face, trying to calm his thoughts. To be honest, he didn’t even really know why Snape had gotten pissed off. He didn’t do anything wrong! He just asked a question. Snape was the one who had taken it the wrong way. Not really his fault!   
   “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just say Snape and I won’t ever be having any kind of date again,” he mumbled.  
  
   Hermione couldn’t see Snape doing anything out of line, but she was worried now. “Harry, please tell us what happened… He didn’t try and… you know?”  
  
   “What!? No!” Harry yelled, even though they could have when their magic had gone haywire. But it didn’t come to that, and Harry was more than thankful right now. He didn’t even want to _think_ about Snape right now!  
   “No, it was nothing like that, nothing happened. Just… I don’t really want to talk about it, alright? I’m going to go to bed.”   
  
   As Harry stood, both Ron and Hermione just watched, letting the boy head upstairs. The both of them said nothing more about it.  
  
*****     
   The next few days, Harry and Snape hadn’t spoken to one another since the night of their ‘date’. Hermione was beginning to get very worried. Potions classes were what Ron called ‘back to normal’ with Snape being cruel towards the other Houses—particularly Gryffindor.    
   Harry hadn’t said what had happened, but neither one of them wanted to ask. Ron was quite happy and said he didn’t care as long as things were back to normal and Harry didn’t like Snape. But Hermione knew something was up. And so after Potions had finished, she decided to stay back.  
   “Professor Snape?” she asked, approaching the professor’s desk. He didn’t say anything, but she decided to talk anyway—as she was quite known for. “Sir, I wanted to ask about Harry.”  
  
   Feeling his shoulders tense, Snape looked up to the girl with a signature glare. “What of Potter?”   
  
   “Well… I wanted to ask more about you two, actually,” she said nervously.   
  
   Snape put his quill down, intertwining his hands onto the desk. “Miss Granger, I have little time for this, so what do you want?”   
  
   Getting straight to the point, Hermione said, “Look, I know something between you happened, and whatever it is, I’m sorry, but can’t you look past it? You two were meant for one another. I know all about Ancient Magic-,”  
  
   “I don’t think that’s any of your concern, Miss Granger. Besides, I have no idea what you’re even speaking of,” Snape interrupted. “Students and teachers are not allowed to have relationships, and I would never wish to have one with Potter. You Gryffindors are much too difficult to make sense of.”   
  
   Hermione frowned, but she didn’t want to leave it at that. “I know Gryffindor’s can wear their hearts on their sleeves, Professor… but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Harry still likes you, and I think you still like him.”  
   When Snape didn’t say anything and returned to his notes, Hermione got the hint and walked away from the desk, knowing that if she pushed him she’d get into a lot of trouble. She was surprised he didn’t already get her into trouble, or call her in insufferable know-it-all.   
  
   Hearing the footsteps dwindle away, Snape gave a huff, leaning his chin onto his hand as he looked at his notes. He knew Harry still cared for him because his magic was still prickling every time he saw the damn Gryffindor. If his magic was still prickling it meant Potter’s was, too. He wasn’t stupid, he understood how it worked.   
   However, that didn’t mean he was going to do anything about it. Potter had been the one to accuse him of just wanting sex out of him, and he did not take kindly to such a grotesque insult. As much as he hated to admit it, he had grown very strong feelings for Potter. And the fact that Harry had even _thought_ that of him made him incredibly angry.  
   His reputation was bad enough as it was as the cold-hearted, bitter, dungeon bat Slytherin. He didn’t need pervert on his fucking list. And he certainly didn’t need it on his list just because of Potter!   
   The last few days hadn’t been easy, and he knew they hadn’t been easy for Harry either. He probably shouldn’t have been so snappy, but the mere sight of the Gryffindor had made him angry in ways he didn’t even understand.  
   A few nights ago, he was pressed against Harry’s body, and nothing had ever felt as good as that. Did he want Potter? Of course he did. Harry had grown into an attractive young man. But that didn’t mean he just wanted to sleep with him. Merlin, Harry probably didn’t even know he was a virgin. And if he did, he’d probably laugh at him or something and just…  
   Hearing noise from outside, he lifted his head. _Oh, bloody hell, what now?_   
   He stood up from his desk and walked out of the classroom, heading to the corridors to see a crowd of students yelling and cheering. In the middle of the circle, there was no other than Harry Potter and a younger, but bigger, Slytherin boy named Harley Wadlow.  
   Harry had blood on his lips, which only meant a fight had happened. And something in Severus’ stomach boiled in anger at the sight of someone else hitting the Gryffindor.   
   “Wadlow! What the hell are you doing!?” he snapped, easily pushing his way through the students and ripping the boy’s apart. The students around them seemed to disappear rather quickly as he broke up the fight.   
   Harley Wadlow was a round boy with a mean streak—he’d already seen that as soon as the boy had come into his House (just another one to ruin Slytherin’s reputation). He was cunning, though, but cruel. He’d already been caught thieving things from the Slytherin House members.   
  
   “He started it!” Wadlow yelled, though not having a scratch on him.   
  
   “That’s a lie!” Ron yelled from the sideline—Hermione next to him. “That stupid Slytherin insulted Hermione, and you know exactly what he called her! Harry just stood up for her!” he called out.  
  
   Snape let his hand go from Wadlow’s collar. “Get inside, and you’ve just lost your House five points, Wadlow. I will talk to you later in my office, is that clear? Insult Miss Granger again and I’ll have you expelled and sent home before you can ever say that word again!”   
  
   Ron’s eyes widened as he looked at Hermione in shock that Snape had actually yelled at one of his own House students. Harry, on the other hand, wiped down his busted lip and averted his eyes.  
  
   “Who started it?” Snape demanded, looking at all three of them.   
  
   When both Ron and Hermione looked at him, Harry looked at Snape. “I just said don’t call her that,” he said, though looking away once more.  
  
   “Then the git insulted Harry about his parents!” Ron added in, Snape giving him a quick look. He fell silent instantly, eyes going down.   
  
   “Potter, come with me, you’ll need something for that cut. The rest of you, get to your next classes before I deduct points from each and every one of you.” The students instantly began fleeing like cockroaches.  
  
   Harry, with his head down, followed Snape back into his classroom. Although angry, he was even more angry that he had to follow Snape into his class again. He didn’t _need_ Snape’s help, even if his lip was sore and dripping blood.   
  
   “Sit,” ordered Snape, pushing Potter down into a chair and walking over to one of the cabinets. He grabbed out a small phial and walked back.  
   Taking Harry’s chin into his hand, he examined the cut, Harry’s eyes averting his at all costs. “Why didn’t you fight back?”   
  
   Looking to the Potions master, Harry’s brows furrowed in question. “Why does it matter?”  
  
   Snape frowned. “If your father knew you weren’t standing up for yourself, he’d be very disappointed,” he said quite knowingly.   
  
   “Yeah, I’m sure he had a blast sticking up for himself when you were making potions to poison him.”  
  
   Snape stood up straight. “Someone had to give him a taste of his own medicine.”   
  
   “You think that’s going to make me feel better!?” Harry yelled, standing up from the seat he’d been shoved into. “You’re just like every other Slytherin! No wonder your House is so nasty, they all learn it from you!”   
   Turning to walk out, he was pulled back from the collar of his shirt, being spun around.  
  
   “You have no _idea_ what nasty can be, Potter!” Snape hissed vehemently. “So you get into a spat with a stupid boy, at least you can run home to your little Gryffindor friends! It’s no wonder Slytherins are so bitter, because every waking hour they have to watch you Gryffindor’s wearing your pathetic little hearts on your sleeves! Have some self-respect!”   
  
   “Well at least we know what we’re feeling! Unlike you! All you do is hide it all inside so no one even knows what you’re thinking and feeling! I’m not a mind-reader, you know!” Harry retorted, moving away from the hand and brushing his collar back down.   
  
   “Gryffindor’s don’t care for Slytherin’s, so don’t even act like you’d be the least bit interested in what one is feeling,” sneered Snape. “You’ve made that quite apparent over the years.”   
  
   Harry’s eyes grew angry. “Maybe if you didn’t go around calling everyone a Mudblood, people would have respect for you!”   
  
   Snape stiffened, looking at Harry for a moment in utter silence. He put the phial onto the table with a clang before pushing past him, walking out of the dungeons, his robes following.  
  
   Harry watched as the man left, feeling hard guilt hit his stomach. He looked down at the phial that had been collected for him, and he knew whatever it was it would have healed his cut. Snape had actually stood up for him, told off the Slytherin boy, and here he was, insulting him and making him relive bad memories of his past. He felt horrible now.   
   Picking up the phial, he put it into his pocket and walked out of the classroom, searching down the corridors. Ron and Hermione were still outside, and he made his way over to them.   
  
   “Harry, what happened?” asked the girl.  
  
   “Did you see where Snape went?”  
  
   Ron arched a brow. “He went that way,” he said, pointing towards Hagrid’s hut. “Why?”  
  
   “I’ll tell you later,” said the boy, racing towards Hagrid’s hut. In the distance, he could see Snape’s robes (bloody hell he moved fast!), and he chased after him, yelling out, “Professor!”   
  
   Hearing the voice, Snape didn’t turn, he just continued walking. He had no time for whatever the hell Harry wanted now.   
  
   “Professor, please! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that!” he panted, finally reaching the other. He grabbed his arm so he would stop, but Snape just tugged it back to himself.  
   “I’m sorry…” Harry said, looking up. “I don’t want it to be like this. I don’t want to hate you, Professor… I’m sorry I acted so stupidly… I’m sorry I thought that you might just want… _that_ from me. I was just confused, and I didn’t know, and…” He frowned, looking down. “I’m sorry…” he repeated. “Please don’t hate me.”   
  
   Severus just looked at the boy for a moment. The silence was strong, and he was still pissed off, but he was a grown man. Something did satisfy him to know that Harry was willing to apologise to him, though.  
   “I don’t hate you, Potter. It might come to a surprise to you, but Slytherin’s do happen to have feeling, too. You Gryffindor’s aren’t the only ones who suffer them,” he muttered jadedly.    
  
   Looking up, Harry smirked a little, pulling out the phial from his pocket. “I was wondering if you could help me with this?”  
  
   Snape eyed the phial in Harry’s palm, taking it into his own hand. “Show me your lip,” he ordered, Harry moving closer to him. He undid the phial and put a few drops onto the Gryffindor’s split and swollen lip. Within a few seconds, it was back down to normal.   
   He then put the phial back into Harry’s hand. “You may keep it. I have a feeling you enjoy getting yourself roughened up…”   
  
   “I hardly call it enjoying, Professor,” Harry laughed, thankful that his swollen lip was down now.  
  
   “Why didn’t you stand up for yourself?”   
  
   Harry looked up, wondering why it meant so much, but instead of snapping back, he answered truthfully, “I don’t like fighting.”   
  
   “That hardly means you can’t stand up for yourself,” Snape scoffed. “You know you are magically stronger than most of the students here, and even some of the professors. You were more than capable of at least disarming an orb like Harley Wadlow.”   
  
   “I know I’m strong enough… but that doesn’t mean I think it’s right,” Harry explained. “I’m tired of fighting, I’m tired of war. I just want to live a peaceful life. Is that so much to ask for?”     
  
   Snape watched Potter carefully before letting his hands go by his side, the wind blowing through his robes. “I thought you, of all people, would have realised that life is one big battle. No matter who you are, or what you’ve done, there will always be someone ready to attack you. And do you really wish to go down from a boy like Wadlow? For Merlin’s sake, Potter, have some dignity.”   
  
   Looking at the older man, Harry had a feeling this was more personal than it looked from an outsider’s point of view. “Why does it matter to you so much that I stand up for myself?”   
  
   “As much as it may pain you to hear so, Potter, I do not enjoy seeing you defenceless on the ground when you know exactly how to defend yourself. It is basic instinct. You can stand up to a crowd of Death Eaters and sacrifice your own life to defeat the Dark Lord, but you cannot stand up for yourself in the schoolyard? I hardly understand you at all, Potter, but now you’re making it even more difficult.”   
  
   “Wadlow may be a jerk, Professor, but he’s still just a kid,” Harry said. “I’m not like you. I don’t get revenge out of it, okay?”  
  
   Snape resented that. He did not get revenge out of _everything!_ Just those he thought deserved it. In fact, he detested seeing when students were in peril. There was nothing more important to him than the safety of the children here at Hogwarts—even if most people thought that was the last thing on his mind. Not to mention it pissed him off to see weaker kids being picked on. It caused horrible nostalgia for himself.     
  
   ”He’s just a stupid kid, and hardly worth getting expelled over if I end up cursing him. Besides… I’m afraid that if I fight back, I won’t be able to stop it…” Harry confessed, his eyes lowering.   
   “I know I’m a powerful wizard, but I know when I get angry, I can do bad things. It’s what I feared with Voldemort, why I didn’t want to be in Slytherin,” he said. “I was afraid I was too much like him, and I don’t ever want that to happen.”   
  
   Severus found himself frowning at the thought of Harry thinking that he could be that dangerous and cruel. Potter didn’t have it in him to be cruel. Even when he was connected to the Dark Lord, Harry had always had something that the Dark Lord hadn’t. He’d loved. He’d had the power of his friends beside him, his loyalty to Dumbledore and most of all, he knew what love was. Even without knowing his parents, he still loved them dearly. More than the Dark Lord ever knew. Or ever _could_ know.   
   “Potter, the Dark Lord is gone,” Snape stated, “And even if he were still alive, I thought the last eight years would have been proof enough that that would never happen.”  
  
   “I could have killed Malfoy in those bathrooms, Professor. You saw what I did to him.”  
  
   “In not knowing what such a spell could cause,” said the Potions master. “Thoughtless of you, yes, but I would hardly say it was your intention if you knew what such a spell would do.”   
  
   Harry looked up, watching Snape carefully. “But you knew what it would do… How could you make something like that? How could you actually try and hit someone with that, knowing what it would do to them?”  
  
   “My very intentions were for them to suffer, Potter,” Snape said a-matter-of-factly. “I was younger than you when I invented the spell, and I’ve already told you that I wasn’t a very nice child. It was a means of protection, really. I had to defend myself from your father’s antics.”   
   But comparing the two of them, he knew he was not a nice person. He was cruel and sought vengeance on anyone who had ever made him suffer. How Potter had ever grown feelings for him was a mystery to him.  
  
   “Right…” Harry muttered. “Do you regret it?”  
  
   “Regret what, Potter?”  
  
   “Killing,” said Harry, looking up to the man’s eyes. Snape seemed surprised, and that only made Harry question even more. Snape had been a Death Eater for three years before Voldemort had fallen, and three years was a long time. Who knew how many deaths the man had been responsible for? And to think, he’d fallen for a murderer—even if it was in his past.  
  
   “Potter, I don’t think this is quite the place for a conversation such as this,” said Severus.   
  
   “Just tell me, please!” Harry said, this time desperation clear in his voice. “Please tell me that you regret it! I need to know…”  
  
   “I have nothing to regret,” Snape said, Harry’s eyes looking at him in horror. “Potter, I never committed murder before Dumbledore’s death. Even as a Death Eater. I was nothing but a spy as I was good at keeping myself hidden—no thanks to your father. I could aid the Dark Lord in spells and potions, which is how I gained such a trustworthy position. I could sit and watch as others suffered under his hand, but I never, from my own wand, committed murder. I have nothing to regret,” he repeated. That wasn’t to say he knew many innocent people had been hurt or died.   
  
   Harry swallowed, feeling his heart beat hard under his ribcage. He was thankful to hear that Snape had never murdered before, but he still felt awful at the fact that he knew Snape had done some terrible things in his younger years.   
   He remembered the Pensieve and the conversation that had happened between Snape and Dumbledore, planning the assisted suicide. And he remembered what Snape had said about his own soul. Dumbledore had never asked when the last time Snape had murdered was, but only the last time he had witnessed it. It somewhat reassured Harry right now that Snape was being honest with him.   
   “I’m sorry…” he murmured gently, looking back up. “I shouldn’t have assumed that you had committed something like that. I just… I want to know who the person I like is. I want to get to know you, but… I’m afraid I might not like you when I know what you’ve done.”   
  
   A reasonable request, Snape figured. Harry was rather innocent, and they were far from being the same on that spectrum. He didn’t like discussing his past with anyone, not even Dumbledore, but Harry was right. There was no point in them giving into their magic if they truly didn’t like one another. Their magic obviously thought they were suited, but so far it had proven to be nothing but complication after complication.   
   This particular magic usually meant the two parties did like one another before they even knew it—which was why their magic connected, a subtle hint to realise their feelings and accept them. So far, though… Snape was questioning if this magic was faulty.    
   Maybe it was time for things to finally be exposed.


	19. Approval.

Chapter Nineteen: Approval.  
  
   The following few days, things between Severus Snape and Harry Potter had become much calmer. Harry hadn’t been so upfront with his questions, and they decided they just wished to get comfortable with one another first.  
   Of course, this didn’t stop their magic from going haywire every time they were in the same room as one another. In fact, now that they were being subtle and more polite, it was growing even stronger, and Harry was beginning to have horribly graphic dreams of the professor.  
   Just this morning, he’d woken up to a very graphic dream which had the two of them in the Slytherin shower that he’d seen in the man’s personal quarters. It had left him horribly flustered and he’d been back to putting charms up so no one heard him in his sleep—just in case. After all, he didn’t know if he was really making noise compared to in his dreams where he was gasping and almost screaming.   
   He wondered if Snape was having the same issue. After the fight they’d gotten into over sex, he’d been too caution to bring the subject up again. Especially since they had been getting along so well once more. He didn’t exactly wish to ruin that and get into another fight about it.   
   He understood that there were things that he and Snape could never agree on. But being in a relationship wasn’t about having common ground on everything. Snape was an intelligent man and a very powerful wizard. He didn’t exactly wish to go back to being on the man’s bad side.   
   He had felt better about knowing that Snape hadn’t killed anyone before, though—except Dumbledore. But the both of them knew that that was an assisted suicide and a merciful killing if anything. If there was one thing that Dumbledore had taught him, it was to trust Snape. And he was beginning to, very much so.   
   He knew Snape hadn’t been a good person. He’d done many bad things and he had plenty of flaws. But Snape didn’t need to be perfect. Harry could see past those things. And he was positive he had things about him that Snape didn’t like. One of them was wearing the Dursleys clothes from Dudley. He supposed it probably was about time he got some more fitted clothing but he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who enjoyed clothes shopping. Plus, he preferred Muggle clothes. It was what he was used to.    
   It was getting colder now, and across the courtyard, he could see Professor Snape wrapped in a silver and green scarf, speaking with McGonagall (who was also wearing her colours) as they both walked towards the castle. Snape was looking much happier than he had been the last few days, and he enjoyed the sight of that. Harry hoped that it was because of him. Or it could possibly be the cold weather. He knew Snape preferred cold weather over warm. But still, he hoped it was because of him.   
   Of course, not much of Snape’s personality had changed, and he didn’t expect it to. It had only been a few days, but he was glad he was being more polite. The man was who he was, and he still made classes miserable, but Harry found himself not too worried about the lessons anymore. He spent most of his time watching Snape as he worked and walked the class. Well, until Snape would tell him off about it. If he screwed up in Potions, he was still punished—which only seamed fair.  
   Looking to his friends, he told them that he would be back in a moment. Of course, Ron wasn’t happy to hear that he and Snape were getting along again, and he’d explained to Hermione what had really happened. She couldn’t give a detailed analysis on the whole thing, but she did tell him that Snape was probably offended that he thought that of him. He didn’t realise it could have been read that way, but like mentioned before, he was too nervous to ever bring it up again.  
   When he made his way over to the two professors, McGonagall greeted him with a gentle nod. “Professors,” he smiled, his smile growing wider when he looked at Snape, “I was hoping to talk to Professor Snape about something.”  
   Snape had said that he was going to talk to McGonagall about their relationship because he didn’t want to be breaking school rules, and considering their magic was connecting, there wasn’t exactly any way of truly fighting it. He hadn’t heard anything about it for a few days now, so he wanted to know if the man had discussed it.  
  
   McGonagall looked between the two, Severus’ expression blank. “Yes, of course, Potter. He’s all yours,” she smirked, getting a scrutinising look from the Potions master. “I’ll be in my office, Severus, if you need me.”   
  
   When McGonagall left, Snape looked down to Harry who was in his winter robes, a red and yellow scarf around his neck. “I have yet to speak to the Headmistress, Potter, if that’s what you’re asking,” he noted, leaning a hand onto the stone wall.   
  
   Harry gave a sound if impatience. “You said you were going to ask,” he whined.  
  
   “Potter, it may interest you that I do have a life outside of you,” Snape frowned, folding his arms and giving the boy a warning look.   
  
   Harry smirked, looking up over his glasses. “How disappointing.”   
  
   Snape just stared at the young man. He had yet to get used to Harry’s more… adult side. “I will try my best after classes if it means that much to you,” he drawled, though enjoying the sight of Harry’s excitement. Of course, Severus was enjoying their time together much more than the last few weeks—and much more than he led on. He had his pride, though.   
   The last few weeks had been strange and awkward and just a complete cluster-fuck of emotions. However, since they had talked things out and were going ‘slow’, things had been much easier for the both of them—certainly him, considering Harry wanted to know so many personal questions.   
   Snape expected most of them, to be honest. Harry was a curious young man, but he hadn’t been ready to open up yet. He’d created a very hard and thick shell when it came to others knowing of him. The Pensieve was a must when he was about to die. Harry _needed_ to know those things, but the last seven years of his life? It was crucial that he hide most of himself from both Harry and the Dark Lord. For Harry’s sake.  
  
   “Thank you,” Harry smiled, “And yeah, it does mean a lot to me. I want to know if I can actually talk to you in public without getting harassed. I don’t like being secretive. I want to be able to… well… you know, do things.”  
  
   Snape lifted a brow curiously. “Do things?” he asked, returning his hands to his side.   
  
   “Yeah,” said Harry shyly, though wearing a grin again. He took Severus’ hand into his own, slipping his fingers into the sleeve, “I like being affectionate with you.”  
  
   Severus immediately took his hand back, much to Harry’s disappointment. “Potter, I understand that you want to show affection, you are human after all, but not here. It is much too risky,” he warned, though his voice going softer than before. It had felt rather nice, even if completely awkward.  
   “I will speak to the Headmistress after class if I have the time. Until then… your friends are waiting for you,” he said, noting to the two sitting in the middle of the courtyard. Plus, besides the two steamy kisses they had shared, they had hardly showed any affection towards one another. It was still very strange to Severus. The thought of it progressing was a bit embarrassing, even if the Slytherin had his own desires.   
  
   Harry nodded, “Alright,” he said, knowing Snape would hear his disappointment. Much to his surprise, the man gave him a reassuring adjustment of his scarf.    
   “I thought you said no affection,” he protested.  
  
   “I’m a professor, and you must look presentable during school hours,” Snape smirked before leaving Harry and heading back to the dungeons.   
  
   Harry shook his head, brushing his hair down a little bit before heading back over to Ron and Hermione—who had been watching the whole time by the looks of things.   
  
   “You two are serious, then…?” Ron asked, his voice sounding somewhat dissatisfied as he’d watched the two of them across the courtyard.   
  
   Harry shrugged, “We kind of have to be considering even if we hated each other our magic would still be sending us mental.”     
  
   “I think it’s cute,” Hermione said, Ron looking at her funnily. “Well, it’s true. Who would have ever thought Professor Snape, of all people? And he’s looking a lot less scary when walking around the corridors. Plus, it makes for a much better Potions lesson.”  
  
   Ron had to agree with that at least. Since Harry and Snape had been continuing their relationship, Potions lessons had been less dreadful. Snape wasn’t exactly the nicest of people, and Ron could never see him being nice, but he’d at least stopped singling out the Gryffindors. Although they were still miserable.  
   “Think you could get him to cut us some slack in our exams?” Ron mused, Hermione looking horrified, though pleased that he wasn’t saying anything else. “You know… I’m sure a quick snogging or something the morning before would really cheer him up.”   
  
   Harry was unable to hold his laughter, even though he had turned a light shade of red. At least the rest of the day was going to be easy. The waiting, however, was going to kill him.   
  
*****   
   As luck had it, Severus had time after class and before dinner to talk to McGonagall. So he headed up to the Headmistress’ office once he was finished and knocked on the open door before taking a step inside.  
  
   McGonagall was behind her desk, speaking to one of the portraits. When she heard the knock, she turned, not surprised to see Severus.   
   “Come in, Severus,” she said, putting her hands onto the desk. “What can I do for you this evening?”   
  
   Severus didn’t take a seat, he just stood beside the chair. “I wanted to speak of Potter,” he said, noticing the glimmer in McGonagall’s eyes as she looked at him. She knew exactly what this was about.   
  
   “Ahh, yes,” said the Headmistress, relaxing a little in her seat. “You and Potter certainly seem to be getting along now. I’m pleased to see the two of you enjoying yourselves.”   
  
   Snape avoided the temptation to roll his eyes and decided to sit down in the available seat. It wasn’t like their magic really gave them much of a choice. “Yes, about that,” he started, “It’s quite clear that Potter’s and my own magic have formed some kind of bond. I already tried to speak to you and Albus about this, but I understand I may have been acting irrational at the time.”  
   When Minerva gave him a rather accusing look, Snape gave her a blunt look, “I _did_ act out of line, fine. But under the rules of the Ministry and Hogwarts, it is illegal for a student and a professor to have a romantic relationship. So I am asking, how do you suppose Potter and I go about this?”  
   Snape had thought how he was going to approach this question since Potter had asked, but the question wasn’t exactly that simple. There was either you do it and get caught and into trouble, or there was you betray the law and sneak around. He knew Harry didn’t wish to be so secretive, and he agreed. It would be quite a nuisance for the both of them, particularly with their magic urging them together. Sometimes it just wasn’t in their control—obviously with how quick things had escalated previous times.    
  
   The Headmistress found herself unable to stop smirking, which was much to the professor’s annoyance. “Well, Severus, that all depends on if you and Potter are pursuing a romantic relationship,” she stated happily. “Are you?”   
  
   She really wanted him to say it, didn’t she? Severus found himself glaring at the Headmistress.   
   “Yes…” he finally murmured, the word slowly but surely coming out.   
  
   Minerva clasped her hands together as if she’d been waiting for this moment for years. “I knew it,” she said, standing up from her seat and putting a hand onto Severus’ shoulder. The man gruffly shook it off, and she just waved a hand.   
   “Well, you are in luck, Severus. No, students and professors are not to have relationships; however, under the circumstances of either previous marriage or a magical bond—which the two of you have clearly made—you and Potter are quite excused for your actions.”  
  
   What!? She couldn’t have told him this _months_ ago!? Severus found his hands gripping tightly on the arms of the lounge.   
   “This information would have been greatly useful when you first noticed what was happening,” he hissed nastily. “Do you have any idea what you have put the both of us through by keeping this to yourself?”   
  
   “Ah, that would be because under law, one must know for certain that a magical bond is present,” said Dumbledore from his portrait on the wall. “You had just recovered from a very horrid wound, Severus, it could have simply been a change of heart to the boy. Both Minerva and I had to be certain it was the force of your magic before anything else.”   
  
   Standing from his seat, Severus bit his tongue in saying anything out of line. “So, this entitles us to have a public relationship?” he asked.  
  
   “Quite so, Severus, as Ancient Magic is still much stronger than the Ministry’s laws,” Minerva clarified, “However, for the interest of Potter and yourself, I would not flaunt it around. You wouldn’t want the wrong person to see or hear of it, and Potter still has his exams coming up. But you must realise that this relationship still has to remain somewhat professional. No acting like hormonal teenagers. The last thing he needs is the _Daily Prophet_ posting his face on the front page because they know he’s in a relationship.”  
  
   “Isn’t it there every morning?” Snape muttered, his hands going in front of him. What the hell _was_ the _Prophet_ without Potter’s face being in there somewhere?    
  
   “This brings me to my next request,” informed the witch, “Severus, Harry will need your protection over the next weekend. There are a few reporters and tourists coming to Hogwarts here to study and write down the historical event of Voldemort’s defeat. This means there will be plenty of others who will want to talk to and meet Harry.”   
  
   Snape felt his gut boil at the thought of the boy being harassed and bickered at. He hardly saw what he could do about it, but he gathered he’d been protecting Harry since his first year here, so why not again?   
   “What do you suppose I do, Headmistress?”   
  
   “I’m afraid there isn’t much you can do, eventually they will get to him. But we do ask that you keep him safe and keep an eye on him,” Minerva said hopefully. “Both Albus and I know you can do this. You’ve protected Potter far better than any of us have before.”   
  
   Now Snape didn’t know about that. He always felt that he could have done more to help Harry, but this wasn’t up for debate.   
   “I will do what I can,” he said. “Does Potter know? Are you going to address the school?”  
  
   “Tonight, at dinner, I shall reveal this,” Minerva nodded. “Was there anything else you needed?”  
  
   “No,” Severus said, “Thank you.” He then walked from the Headmistress’ office, heading down the stairs. He wanted to warn Harry that this was happening before he was surprised about it at dinner, which was only an hour or so away.   
   Surely Harry wasn’t already in the Gryffindor common-room, so he walked back down to the courtyard. There were students everywhere, so it was hard to tell with all of the House colours roaming about.   
   It wasn’t the Gryffindor he was searching for, but he did spot one of Potter’s friends, making his way over to the girl. “Miss Granger, do you happen to know where Potter is?” he asked, the girl looking up from her book, Weasley, surprisingly, reading his own. The girl clearly had him wrapped around her finger.   
  
   “He went to the burial grounds,” said Ron, looking up. “With all due respect, Professor Snape, I think he wants to be alone.”   
  
   “Ron, that’s not true,” Hermione butted in, “I’m sure you’re more than welcome to talk to him, Professor.”   
  
   Snape had little time to care about Weasley’s remark, and he nodded, moving past them and heading to the cemetery that Hogwarts had made to remember the dead from the battle. He should have figured Harry would visit there sooner or later if he already hadn’t.   
   Moving over the hill, Severus soon saw the black and red robes of the Gryffindor as he was sitting in the grass in front of a particular tombstone. He moved as quietly as possible so he didn’t startle the boy, but Harry seemed to know he was there—most likely from their magic.   
  
   “I know you didn’t like him,” Harry said, “and I know you had your reasons, but Remus was my friend… and he was a great man.”   
   This wasn’t the first time Harry had come here. Sometimes when he couldn’t sleep he’d grab his father’s old cloak and sit out here. Mostly it was nights of a full moon. That wasn’t the only grave that he came to see, though. He came to see everyone’s.   
   Of course, the dead weren’t actually buried here; this was just a memorial for them. Their bodies had been taken to their desired resting places. It would be too chaotic if they were here. Still, Harry wished that he could at least see the ghosts of his friends here. But he knew he never would. After all, none of them had been afraid of death in the end.   
  
   Snape tried not to remember the fact that Remus Lupin could have eaten him in his werewolf form as a child no thanks to Sirius Black. Instead, he just moved a little closer, watching the Gryffindor as he sat on the ground, picking at the grass.   
  
   “I just wish I could have said goodbye,” Harry said, swallowing hard as he felt a familiar ache in his chest. He’d seen so many of his friends and family die, he just wanted it all gone. He hated feeling like this, but he knew deep down that they never truly left him. They’d always be with him. In his heart.  
  
   “Lupin was certainly the least of my worries when it came to your father and his friends,” Snape murmured, as if that was meant to make Harry feel any better. Sure, he had turned a blind eye to their behaviour, but Lupin didn’t exactly pick on him like the others had. After all, why? Lupin was a werewolf. He saw himself as a freak of nature. If Snape had truly hated him, he wouldn’t have brewed the Wolfsbane potion to control his animalistic urges—even if it had been Dumbledore’s orders.    
  
   “You still hated him,” Harry muttered, “otherwise you wouldn’t have let slip that he was a werewolf.”   
  
   Yes, about that. Snape felt his shoulders drop a little as he decided to lean down onto one knee beside the Gryffindor. “Harry, I did not let that slip because I disliked the man. He was a danger to the students here at Hogwarts, and it was a duty of mine to protect them, as well as you.”   
  
   “He would have never hurt me!” Harry snapped, tears glazing his eyes. “He was a good man! He taught me about my mum and dad… He taught me how to conjure a _Patronus_.”   
  
   “Do you know what kind of trauma I had endured when Lupin turned?” said the Slytherin. “I feared for all of you and myself, but you were more important than I. I would have done anything to protect the three of you. Lupin showed that he was still a threat, and I could not have that. I could not risk that happening again. To any student here. He was being careless in forgetting to take his potions. Even if it were because of Black. Risking that was not an option.”   
  
   Harry looked away, knowing that it had been Snape to make the potions for Lupin as he turned so he’d stay calm. He knew that even though Snape hated Lupin, he still went out of his way to make a potion to protect Lupin and everyone around him. And to think, he thought he’d been poisoning Lupin in his third year.    
   “It doesn’t matter now, anyway,” he said shortly, ripping at the grass now. “He’s gone. They’re all gone… And I’m still here.”   
  
   Watching the boy tear at the grass, Severus stopped him, putting his hand onto Harry’s. “By the rate of how you are going, there won’t be any grass left,” he said, looking at the boy’s watery green eyes. “I can stay here with you, but I’m afraid I am not the best at comforting anyone. If you wish to be alone, I will leave immediately.”   
  
   Harry just kept his eyes on the grass, not wanting to cry in front of Snape. He had already done that once in a temper tantrum breakdown, he didn’t want to do it again and make him feel uncomfortable.   
   At the same time, he didn’t want the man to leave. Even if Snape didn’t know how to comfort him, his magic did. He could feel it gently soothing against his skin, and he couldn’t help but lean into it, feeling himself lean into the man’s side, which soon became his shoulder as Snape turned.   
  
   When Harry had made his decision, Severus let the boy lean into his shoulder as he crouched, not wanting to sit in the damp grass. Clearly Harry didn’t want to be left alone, though, so he stayed, awkwardly letting Harry lean into him.   
   They were silent for a while, and Snape heard the small sobs come from the Gryffindor. The best he could do was watch in silence and let the boy get his feelings out. He would have offered a hand, but he didn’t wish to get their magic too connected as it was already quite close. Plus, he didn’t want to risk Harry getting more upset.   
   It was only when Harry started to sob harder that Severus couldn’t take it anymore. Not because he hated the sound of someone crying, but because he hated seeing Potter in so much emotional (and probably physical) pain.   
   He leant his head down and placed a hand against Harry’s back, and suddenly the boy was clutching at him, hands wrapped around his back. He didn’t say anything, he just let Harry get it out, knowing that it had probably been building up for a very long time. How often did he come here and do this?  
   With all the death’s the Gryffindor had witnessed, he certainly couldn’t blame him. As much as Severus was in control of his emotions (most of the time), that didn’t mean he was ignorant to how one could or should feel in such situations.   
  
   Feeling his tears dampen Snape’s shoulder, Harry tried to sniff and wipe them away with his own sleeve, though not wanting to leave the warm body.   
   “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, feeling ashamed of himself, “I didn’t mean to get you all wet.” He still didn’t move himself away, though. Snape felt good—despite the greasy hair from making potions all day that was now against his cheek as he leant over his shoulder.   
  
   “No matter,” said Snape calmly, looking down at the tear-streaked face as he moved away. He hated seeing Harry in pain. He’d always hated it. Sure, he didn’t like Harry when he’d started school, there were many reasons why, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed seeing Harry literally suffer. He’d spent years trying to protect him. It seemed like something natural now. Making a fool out of himself, that was enjoyable to see, but real pain? No.   
   But things were different from back then. Now Severus _could_ care for the younger wizard. He didn’t just have to walk away and act as if he cared so little for him. He could show that he did care for him, that he meant something to him.  
   Pulling away, he lifted a hand and placed it against Harry’s cheek, wiping his thumb against the damp skin. “Harry, I apologise for being cruel to you. Merlin knows I was never pleasant to you during your years here at Hogwarts, but you must understand that I had to be cruel to you.”  
   He knew he’d already explained this, but he wanted Harry to understand. “I will not lie; you did remind me of your father quite so, but I still would have protected you at all costs. I could have been more obvious for you, though, and I had tried to subtly hint certain things to you, especially in the Dark Arts, but-,”  
  
   “I was too stupid to figure it out,” Harry finished, shrugging. “No point in sugar-coating it, Professor, it’s true.”  
  
   “That was not what I was going to say,” Snape muttered, “I knew Miss Granger would have aided you, she was more than capable.”   
  
   “So you didn’t set those things up to hurt me all the time?” Harry said, looking up.   
  
   “No,” Snape confirmed, lowering his hand and leaning it onto his crouched knee. “I had to be subtle, otherwise others would have known. However, in doing so, I do understand that it may not have been as simple as I thought it may be for you to understand. But I knew Miss Granger would. She is a rather bright witch for her age.”   
  
   Harry wiped down his face once more, smiling at the compliment. He trusted Snape, and he nodded. “Thank you for being here with me. I know that things have been weird and awkward between us figuring our feelings out, and I certainly don’t expect you to be very public about it, but… I’m glad you’re here.”  
  
   Severus nodded, looking up as a snowy owl made its way over, Spells landing gracefully onto the gravestone of Remus Lupin.   
  
   “Spells, what are you doing here?” asked Harry, the owl jumping down do waddle across the grass and over to them. Harry lifted his hand and patted her gently on the back of the head. “I really like her, Professor… thank you for giving her to me.”   
  
   Once more, Snape just nodded once. “You are welcome.”   
  
   Harry smiled as Spells nibbled onto the sleeve of his robes before looking back up to the Slytherin. “Why did you get her for me? Really?”   
  
   “I already told you, it was a necessity for school,” said Snape, looking at the owl.   
  
   “I know that’s what you said, but… buying _me_ an owl?” Harry asked, taking off his glasses for a moment so he could clean them down before putting them back on. They were horribly dirty from his tears.   
  
   Snape pushed himself back up. “I thought I was gone the moment Nagini bit me. Many things flashed before me, including you. I woke up and you were there. Of all the people, it was you, Potter, to save me. Even before you knew what I had done to protect you. You saved my life thinking that I was a traitor, that I had murdered Dumbledore out of the Dark Lord’s wishes. I thought I could at least give you something in return, and I knew how much you had been mourning Hedwig.”   
  
   “You knew her name?” Harry asked.  
  
   “You said her name when you collected Fawkes for the holidays. It honestly wasn’t the first time I had heard of your owl, Potter…” Snape shrugged. “Does the gesture mean so much to you?” It was just an owl!   
  
   “Yeah, kinda…” Harry murmured, patting Spells. “No one’s ever given me anything, Professor. Well, not until I came here anyway. The Durlseys didn’t even celebrate my birthday, let alone get me something like an owl.”  
   Harry wiped his face down and sniffed a little. “What happened to your raven, if you don’t mind me asking?”   
  
   “The Dark Lord had most of our messengers killed. It was too risky for them to be seen flying and delivering posts. Death Eaters and owls? Hardly an image that was wanted for such dark witches and wizards.”   
  
   Harry felt a tight pain in his gut as he heard that. “He killed all of them? Why didn’t you just send them away? Send them home? They could have stayed here at Hogwarts!”   
  
   Severus mentally sighed, looking down at the Gryffindor. “Potter, you have no idea what it was like to defy the Dark Lord. You simply did not if you cherished the will to live. There were many things I had to witness, much to my own contempt, to keep my place by his side.”  
  
   Looking down, Harry expelled a gentle sigh. He still didn’t quite know how his and Snape’s magic had connected. They were so different from one another. Snape was still dark in nature. Of course he knew the man was all about protecting him and the students, but that didn’t mean Snape wasn’t into the Dark Arts still. And Harry was… well, he supposed he wasn’t as nice as everyone thought he was, but he wasn’t bad. He had a good heart, and he was forgiving—just look at Ginny (as well as Snape) and Malfoy.   
  
   As Harry fell silent, Severus thought it was the right time to tell him of the news. After all, he may as well get it out in the open. It might be something Harry could look forward to.  
   “Potter, I have good and bad news to inform you of. Which would you prefer to hear first?” he asked rather bluntly, Harry looking at him.   
  
   Bad news? Instantly Harry thought that their relationship was going to be frowned upon. He hated the thought of that. He knew he and Snape were different, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like the man. He liked him a lot, and he could feel that his magic liked him even more.   
   “Please don’t tell me Professor McGonagall said no…” he said. Right now, he really didn’t need another negative thing in his life. He was just starting to deal with the loss of all of his friends and family, and he was just starting to get used to his actual feelings for Snape.   
  
    _‘Certainly good new first, then,’_ Snape thought, brushing a strand of stray hair from his face. “The Headmistress has given us approval,” he said, Harry’s green eyes looking up at him in pure surprise and delight. It was much better than seeing them haunted and teary, that was for sure.  
  
   “You’re serious!? Why?” Harry asked, leaning onto his hands and pushing himself up to his feet, Spells giving a sharp bark at the disturbance in his robes as she had been sitting on them.   
  
   “Ancient Magic overrides the Ministry’s laws, and since our magic has bonded, well… that is something that is beyond our control,” Snape said, “But I must warn you, making things public is not wise unless you wish to have the _Prophet_ hounding you, as well as your peers. We are still to stay discreet or else punishment would be due.”  
  
   “And you…” Harry added. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be just me… After what you did for Dumbledore and Hogwarts, and betraying Voldemort, I’m sure they’d want just as much of you as they would of me,” he murmured.   
   He looked back up, watching the man carefully. Over the course of liking the Slytherin, Snape had become more attractive to him, and he’d wanted more than ever to be able to show that to him. To be able to let Snape know that he enjoyed his company, his presence, and just him overall.   
   “Does this mean that we can… show affection to one another? At least in private?” he asked, feeling nerves hit his chest hard as he realised what he’d said. “I mean… since… we’re going to make things official, right? Unless you don’t want that?” He knew his magic was playing up again, he could feel it, but it wasn’t just that anymore. Harry really did want to be with Severus Snape.    
  
   Snape all of a sudden realised how awkward that this may be for the two of them. Harry was a teenager who was probably shy, while he just… wasn’t very good at showing affection. He’d never really had any experience.   
   Of course, when he was young, he and Lily were quite close before things fell apart. They would talk for hours and do silly teenager things like lay in the grass. And she would even sometimes brush his hair—much to his own embarrassment. He was shy back then, but now he just didn’t know how to react.  
   “Harry, I must tell you that I am not the most affectionate being out there,” he admitted, looking at the younger wizard. “I do want to pursue a relationship with you, but it may take time for me to become comfortable with it.”   
  
   Harry looked up, Spells making herself comfortable between the two on the grass and clearly setting enough distance. “You’re… You’ve never been in a relationship before?” he asked. God, even he’d been in one, even if potion induced. He knew Snape loved Lily, but…   
  
   “Does that bother you?”   
  
   “No…” Harry said immediately, smiling lightly. “Actually… I kind of like being your first.”  
  
   Snape felt his body stiffen at the mention of his ‘first’. He just looked at Potter strangely as if to determine what exactly Harry was thinking. He would not invade his privacy, though. Not like he had done so before when trying to teach the Gryffindor Occlumency—although he was doing that forcefully because he knew what the Dark Lord could be like.  
  
   Looking back away, Harry felt himself flush under the man’s gaze, but it made sense now, why Snape had been so furious when he’d asked about them having sex. The man hadn’t even had it! He was a virgin! Right? No, it didn’t mean he was a virgin just because he hadn’t been in a relationship before. In fact, it meant nothing at all. Who knew how many witches or wizards slept with one another whilst not or even _in_ a relationship? He was a Slytherin after all…  
   “Does this mean that you’re a v-,”  
  
   “Potter, does that really matter!?” Snape said in a rather hostile tone. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of that, he’d never cared for it, but speaking about it meant he was forced to see Harry as a sexual being again—something that he had been trying to avoid at all costs due to his wanting magic.   
   A relationship was one thing with the Gryffindor, but a sexual relationship was a whole different level. Of course he liked Harry and he enjoyed being against him and feeling the young man against him. It was horribly exciting, but he didn’t want to _hurt_ Harry. Plus, it was just awkward to talk about. Sex was not one of Severus’ strong points.   
  
   “Sorry, I didn’t… mean anything by it,” said Harry, moving a little closer, much to Spells’ disdain as she flapped and landed onto the tombstone once more as Harry’s boot had come very close to her.   
   “I… like that you are. It means I don’t have any competition, because I’m awful at anything when it comes to relationships, and… I’ve never... well, done ‘it’ either.”  
  
   Snape actually didn’t find that hard to believe. Harry Potter was quite awkward when it came to girls, that he did know, and did see at least in his fourth year at the Yule Ball (not that he attended, but he had been there as security).   
   “Potter, we don’t need to be talking about this here and now,” he said rather urgently, “I still have bad news to inform you of, if you haven’t forgotten that already with the overexcitement of our relationship being approved.”  
  
   Oh, right. Harry nodded silently, allowing Snape to continue, feeling guilty and embarrassed.   
  
   “For the next few days, over the weekend, Hogwarts will be open to the public, mainly the _Prophet_. They will be taking many photos of the grounds, I’d assume the battle grounds mainly just outside the Hall, but nonetheless, they will wish to speak with you, that I am certain of.”   
  
   Harry felt a hot sensation of anger hit his stomach. He did not want to be around a crowd for a very long time.  
   “Is there any way to avoid it?” he asked, though doubtful. He knew eventually he would have to talk to the _Prophet_. He was a hero after all. Sure, he was more than happy that Voldemort was gone, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be crowded. From growing up and living in a cupboard with no friends, Harry quite liked his solitude at times.   
  
   Understanding that Harry didn’t quite like the fame as he once thought, Severus didn’t wish to disappoint the Gryffindor. Unfortunately, Harry was a celebrity, and he would have to face the public—unless he wanted his reputation completely ruined.   
   “Potter, you defeated the Dark Lord, and the wizarding world expects to hear from you. The only reason why you haven’t spoken to them already is because Professor McGonagall had the school closed off so classes could start on a smooth track, and over the holidays you were at the Weasley’s house—to which the Ministry did not know, and I doubt the Weasley’s would have allowed them on their property,” Snape explained.  
   “However, since school is already part way through, the Headmistress is unable to keep the journalists away for much longer, and thus she is allowing this weekend to be open. Most of them will be expecting you for interviews. I doubt the issue is up for debate.”   
  
   Feeling angry now, Harry looked back to the castle. He supposed it was the right thing to do, to finally talk about it. It was the weekend, so his classes wouldn’t be disrupted, but he’d still rather be with his friends than a bunch of vultures trying to pick at his flesh.    
   He didn’t want to have to remember it all over again. The deaths, the blood, the ache of it all. He killed Voldemort, he knew that! But he wasn’t the only hero that day! The whole of Hogwarts had put their lives on the line for him! They were just as much of a hero as he was.   
   “Will you be there?” he asked, eyes looking up almost desperately as he moved a little closer to Severus. “I know you don’t like it, but… I would really like your support, even your protection. I’d like if you were there.”   
  
   Snape felt the Gryffindor come closer and his magic spiked almost instantly. But it wasn’t just that anymore, he felt very protective of Harry, and he understood that this was going to be a tough weekend for the Gryffindor hero.   
   “I will be there if you wish that of me,” he said gently, looking down at the boy’s green eyes through his glasses as Harry had somehow come very close. “But I must insist that it be purely professional. You do not wish for this to be publicised, unless you wish for more fame,” he motioned to the both of them with his hand as he said so.  
  
   “No, I don’t want that for either of us… especially you,” Harry said, his eyes locked to the dark ones of the Potions master. He bit his bottom lip temptingly, feeling their magic curl and slither against one another’s.   
   “Professor… how long can we hold this up for?” he asked, his breath merely a whisper. It was getting harder and harder to stay away from the Head of Slytherin, and now that they were together again, he didn’t want to leave once more. He wanted to spend every second with the professor. He wanted those erotic dreams of his to come true. He wanted that strong chest against his back, Snape’s lips against the back of his neck, and those soft, potion-brewing hands against his hips.   
  
   “I… do not know,” Snape admitted more to himself than to Harry. A bark from Spells made him take a step back, though, breaking eye contact with the Gryffindor. “Potter, it is getting late, and dinner is going to start soon, you best head to the Great Hall.”   
  
   Harry felt a spark of anger hit his gut when Snape stepped back. “Are you ashamed of me?” he asked, looking at the man in his dark robes. Snape gave him a rather questioning and shocked look. “You never want to take anything to the next step. I get I’m younger than you, but… do you think I’m disgusting or something?”  
   He was tired of Snape always taking a step back. Starting something and never finishing it. He was a Slytherin! If anything, he should be taking his opportunities. He could be manipulating and lay him down already, take what he wanted and run away. Slytherin’s weren’t stupid! They were intelligent and cunning, and he knew very well what Snape could be like when he wanted something his way.   
  
   “That is rather bold of you, Potter, but no,” Snape said honestly.    
  
   “Then why do you always walk away?”   
  
   Severus could see that Harry was blushing from what he was asking, but he tried his best to ignore it. Plus, Harry’s voice was strong in what he was asking. He was being serious about this.   
   “I am not ashamed of you, I am just indifferent.” That came out wrong. He wasn’t completely heartless. He was just reserved.   
  
   “That’s not true,” Harry pushed. “I’ve seen you in moments of passion. You comforted me here today and you were nice about it. Stop thinking that you’re so cruel all the time, it’s just a mask and I know it. You’ve loved before, even if it was kind of creepy and obsessive.”  
  
   Snape scowled at that. Okay, so he loved Lily, and he may have seemed possessive of her, but he never would have hurt her. Ever. He’d just been deeply in love with her!   
  
   Harry gave a rather aggravated sigh. “You were the one that kissed me first! You can’t say you don’t want it as much as I do. I get that you might not know how, but I don’t either! The only relationship I was ever in was formed because of a stupid potion! Do you think I’m any better at this than you are?”   
  
   Snape felt angry at that, but he resisted the urge to snap at Harry. Another argument was not what they needed. For a moment, he just looked at the Gryffindor before turning his attention back to the castle. “Potter, I just don’t wish to hurt you,” he finally said.   
  
   Harry looked up, a little confused to what exactly Snape meant about that. Emotionally? Physically? So far, Snape not wanting to be physical was the only thing that was hurting him.   
   He moved towards the Potions master once more and he took his arm, Snape almost instantly resisted, but he locked his eyes onto the brown ones. Maybe Snape was the one who was afraid? Or maybe he just wasn’t used to human contact. After all, he was pretty solitary.  
   “Please… Severus,” he said. He hadn’t called Snape by his first name except for when they had first accepted that they wanted a relationship (or were going to try), but he wanted Snape to know he was serious about this. “You’ve spent my whole life here at Hogwarts looking after me, why would this change anything?”   
  
   Those words? Just like the last Dumbledore had said…? Feeling the Gryffindor’s magic against his own, it was soothing and comforting, and something Severus had never really felt before. It was nice but it was different. He wasn’t used to this. He wanted to be, for Harry, but it wasn’t that easy. Relationships were difficult things, especially when sex became involved.   
   Returning his eyes to the young man, Severus watched him closely. “Relationships are very complex things, Harry, even more so when you involve intimacy. What if it hurts you? The last thing I want is for me to be causing you pain. Emotionally and physically. I think we both understand how much trauma you have experienced the last few years.”   
  
   Harry blushed as he realised what Snape was talking about. “The first time always hurts, doesn’t it?” he asked, though realising Snape was just as inexperienced as he was. “But you’ll be there for me. You won’t hurt me, I know you won’t. And if you do, I know you’ll stop. I-I trust you…”  
  
   Snape’s lips parted as Harry said that, looking into the soft, green eyes across from him. Out of all the people, Harry had been one of the ones who had constantly questioned his motives and loyalty to Dumbledore, and now the boy was almost promising him that everything would be alright. That he trusted him. Were things moving too fast? Or were they being too careful?  
   
   “I want you more and more each day, Professor,” Harry admitted, feeling his blush stick to his cheeks. “I know we’re different in many ways, but I’m willing to look past those things. I like you a lot, I like the time I get with you, and… I want to try it with you. I want it so much that I find myself dampened in sweat when I wake up in the morning from… these _graphic_ dreams.”  
   Harry realised he was babbling—such a Gryffindor thing to do—but he wasn’t expecting the look on Snape’s face when he looked back up, the man clearly embarrassed over the whole thing.   
   “Sorry… I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward.”   
  
   Snape just awkwardly put his hands together in front of him. He’d been having the same dreams, to be perfectly honest. He could take Dreamless Sleep potions, but he didn’t tend to make a habit of that. Plus, the potion could become quite addictive if not taken in the right portions, so he had suffered his fair share of erotic dreams involving Harry Potter since their magic had connected.   
   “Potter, I don’t know what you’ve done to make me feel this way, but don’t think for a second that I regret it happening,” he said, picking the boy’s chin up.   
   At first, he had tried to push it away. He hadn’t hated Potter, but he didn’t think he’d ever come to like the Gryffindor, and certainly not like this.   
   Leaning in, he gave him a small kiss on the lips, Harry leaning into him. Before their magic could get too involved, he pulled back, letting his hand fall. “Dinner will be ready soon. We should return to the castle.”   
  
   Feeling his insides flutter, Harry nodded, looking at Snape and swallowing hard. He wanted so much more, and it was just like Snape was teasing him to depart so quickly. But he followed him back to the castle, calling Spells to his arm as they headed back across the field.


	20. Haywire.

Chapter Twenty: Haywire.  

**WARNING: Sex scene**  
  
   As the weekend hit, Harry tried to be prepared in the morning for the flood of people who would be wanting to talk to him. This was something he had mixed feelings on. When he was younger, he didn’t want the fame and was overwhelmed and confused by it, when he was a mid-teenager, he’d grown a little arrogant in his hormonal state, and quite enjoyed the spotlight—though fearing what the hell would happen to him in the Triwizard Tournament. Now? He was pretty over fame. He just wanted to have a normal life with his friends.  
   Getting out of bed, he noticed he’d slept in until late, the other beds empty. He headed downstairs where Hermione stopped him, grabbing his shoulder. This could only mean one thing: people were already outside and wanting to talk to him.   
  
   “Harry… you might not want to go out there just yet, there’s people _everywhere_ wanting to talk to you! You won’t even make it to the Great Hall for breakfast!” the girl exclaimed, though realising Harry was still in his pyjamas. Clearly he wasn’t thinking of heading out just yet. Certainly not dressed like that!   
  
   They were right outside the door!? Harry felt his heart sink at the thought of that. “Great…” he mumbled. “I should probably change into something more presentable, then,” he said, looking down at his striped pyjama pants and his baggy T-shirt.   
  
   “I don’t know, Potter, I think the public would revel at the sight of your nightclothes. Something to excite them, wouldn’t you think?”  
  
   Harry turned at the drawling voice, seeing the Slytherin dressed in his usual dark frock-coat. “Snape!?” he gawked, not expecting to see him here—considering it was the Gryffindor common-room. He instantly blushed as he realised he was in his pyjamas, though giving a bit of an excited grin to see him here.   
  
   “Go and get yourself presentable, Potter,” the Slytherin muttered, his eyes returning to the chessboard in front of him. “Another checkmate, Weasley,” he smirked, Ron’s eyes going wide.  
  
   “Unbelievable! This is the second time in a row!” the red-head complained, well aware that it was Professor Snape he was playing Chess with. “I swear you’ve got to be cheating…” he muttered under his breath.  
  
   “H-how long have you been here?” Harry asked, confused at the rather friendly sight before him. Ron, of all people, playing Wizard’s Chess with Snape? He would have figured Ron would have been out the door at the sight of Snape in here. And who the hell let him in? Surely Snape didn’t know the Gryffindor password. McGonagall would never let him! He figured it was Hermione.  
  
   Snape gave an uninterested look. “Long enough to get bored with Weasley’s repetitive strategy,” he sighed, resting a hand on his cheek as Ron gave a very unimpressed look. And he thought Weasley was meant to be amazing at it.  
  
   “Hey, I got through that maze in the first year, didn’t I?” the boy protested. He was damn good at Chess!   
  
   “You should learn to choose your battles, Weasley,” Snape pointed out, Ron flipping the board and giving a rather aggravated sigh. “I must admit, Potter, your friends are quite… interesting. And this room is horribly bright with such Gryffindor tapestry. I much prefer the dungeons.”  
  
   “’Course you would,” Run muttered, giving Harry a friendly good-morning. “Thought I’d keep him busy for you, mate. Slytherin’s are so pushy.” Despite the fact that Snape had been bored waiting, so Ron figured he’d challenge him at Chess. Worst mistake ever. Now Snape had that over him, too!    
  
   Harry just felt himself blush once more, Snape eyeing the stairs. “Thanks, Ron,” he smirked. “Right, I’ll get dressed.” He gave Hermione a thankful look for entertaining the professor as well before running up the stairs and back to his room. He wouldn’t have minded if they woke him up instead of making Snape wait.  
   He knew he’d have to wear something nice, so he made sure to get a dress shirt that actually fitted, wrapping his Gryffindor tie around his neck. He pulled on some black trousers and brushed down his hair a little bit. At least knowing that Snape was there would make things somewhat easier on him today.   
   He was utterly stunned that the man had even made it up here inside the Gryffindor common-room. Tower, he could understand, and even waiting outside the door. But actually being inside? And playing _chess_ with Ron…? He would have to ask about it when he got the time.   
   Pulling his tie straight, he went back down the stairs, Snape now standing with his hands behind his back. He smiled lightly and the Slytherin nodded gently. “They’re not going to question why you’re here, are they? I didn’t think you’d want to be seen with me.”   
  
   “The Headmistress is busy entertaining the higher guests, I have no issue with escorting you around for the day, Potter,” the man said honestly. “I am positive the last thing on their minds is why I am inside the Gryffindor common-room. The moment you step outside this door, you will be the only thing on their minds.”   
   Would Severus prefer to be doing something else today? Of course. He hated the spotlight. He hated popularity. He hated that this was not a necessity. But Potter was famous. He had to get used to that if he wanted to be in a relationship with him. He didn’t have much of a choice, either. Minerva was busy, and it was Severus’ duty to take care of Harry—student, partner, whatever.  
  
   “Right,” Harry muttered, looking to Ron and Hermione. Neville was in the background, sitting by himself on the lounge and clearly trying to avoid any contact with Snape. That only made Harry silently laugh to himself. He, thankfully, didn’t know anything about their relationship.  
   “Are you two coming?” he asked, considering he knew Neville wouldn’t be. He could stand up to Voldemort with a sword, but he still couldn’t look at Snape? Harry mentally rolled his eyes.     
  
   “Er, no, it’s alright, Harry,” said Hermione. “Ron and I are going to wait a while. You and Professor Snape can go right ahead. We’ll catch up with you later, when some of these people have gone.”   
  
   Harry knew what Hermione was really doing. She was allowing him and Snape to have some time to themselves, which he appreciated, even though he would still have enjoyed spending the morning with them. But he knew Snape didn’t want to hang around here all day, so he nodded.   
   “Professor,” he smiled, looking up at the man and gesturing so he could head outside the door. Snape did so, and the crowd of people down the stairs was quite evident to his ears. This was going to be one tough day.   
   Stopping, he was hesitant to go any further down, knowing that there would be a hundred people with parchment and quills waiting for him to answer a thousand questions at once. He looked up when he felt a hand go to his shoulder, though, the dark eyes on him.  
  
   “If things get too involved and rough on you, I will happily pull you out,” said Snape reassuringly. The events of the morning had been odd for him, but he would not let others see him as weak. He was still the Potions Professor here, despite what Harry’s friends may know about him and them.   
   “I also brought you this, just in case. I am well aware of your outbursts, Potter. It would be best if you contained them,” he pulled a small phial from his pocket and handed it to the Gryffindor.   
  
   Looking at the phial, Harry knew it was Calming Draught inside. “Thank you,” he nodded, tucking the phial into his pocket just in case. He made sure he was presentable once more before heading down the stairs and seeing the wall of reporters and interviewers, the flashes of cameras almost blinding him.   
   He would have to remember to thank Snape properly after this. He knew he was going to hate every second of it. He also knew that he would have his time with McGonagall as well—as she was the Headmistress of Hogwarts. But he was pleased it was Severus this morning.  
  
*****  
   Snape stood behind Harry with his hands behind his back as he listened to the voices screaming and yelling at the boy who stood in front of him. He was getting annoyed at all of the insolence and wished he’d brought his own Calming Draught. Foolish of him not to.  
   Harry was well behaved and took everything in the calmest of ways. He was rather impressed with the Gryffindor. He would have thought a few weeks back that this would have been one of Harry’s greatest moments, but he could see the boy was just trying his best to please everyone but himself.   
   Harry’s attitude had certainly changed over the years of being here at Hogwarts (and being hunted by the Dark Lord). He was just a young boy when he had started, but he had soon learnt to fight for what was right. By his mid years, he’d become an arrogant teenager, one that reminded Severus of James. Luckily, the boy didn’t stay that way for long. The events in his life had made him grow up faster than the regular teenager, and  here he was, acting very much like an adult in being as polite and professional as possible to these vermin.   
   Severus wanted nothing more than to wave them all away so Harry could have some peace and quiet. He could tell the young wizard needed it, and he’d suggested a break once before, but Harry had said it was quite alright—much to his own frustration.  
   Harry wasn’t the only one that was getting asked questions, though. When Weasley and Granger had entered, some of the reporters had surrounded them as well, which Harry seemed to feel guilty about. There was no stopping it, though. Today was the day that these people got what they wanted. The story from their hero. The Battle of Hogwarts.   
   It was Rita Skeeter, much to his own despise, that had come forward about Severus’ own actions during the war. Severus knew better than to walk into her trap and simply waved her away, saying that he had no comment on the matter, that he was simply here as Potter’s security so people like her wouldn’t hound him.  
   The woman seemed to be offended, but nonetheless, her quill was scribbling ferociously onto the parchment, and Snape only knew it was something horribly out of proportion. When it was clear he wasn’t going to speak to her, she moved onto Harry right away, pulling him to a corner for a more ‘private’ interview while the others had to wait.   
   Harry protested, giving Snape a desperate look as he didn’t want to be alone with the woman, and so he had to step in, feeling the urge to try and protect the boy as much as possible.  
   “Interview is over, Skeeter. Potter is a boy after all, he needs something in that scrawny stomach of his,” he said, grabbing Harry’s shirt collar roughly and tearing him away from the crowd of now disappointed fans. He was more than happy to step into the quiet corridor. He was _this_ close to tossing curses around the place.   
  
   Finally, Harry could breathe, and he gave an overwhelmed sigh. “Wow, they’re absolutely mental out there!” he said, brushing himself down and more than happy to get away from Rita Skeeter.   
   “Sorry you have to do this…”  
  
   “Not your fault, Potter. McGonagall’s orders,” Snape muttered, though feeling rather agitated by all of the attention. “I suppose I’ve done quite well at protecting you previously, I’m not going to stop now.” Besides, who else could do a better job? He only trusted himself for something like this. Everyone else had their vulnerabilities. Who would ever think anything of Harry Potter and Severus Snape?  
  
   Harry smiled at that, looking up at the other as they headed down the corridor. “Thank you—I mean it—for doing this,” he said, still catching his breath. Snape had been a bit rough on him in pulling him out of there. “I know you’d rather be doing something else, probably avoiding all these people, but it means a lot that you’re here with me.”   
  
   Snape just nodded silently as they walked, getting himself in check as they headed for the Great Hall so Harry could get some food into him. It wasn’t just the fact that those people were vultures, it was also because he couldn’t stand Potter being in the spotlight all of the time. It bothered him quite a bit, and he didn’t really know why. He’d never been one for popularity, though.   
   As they reached the Great Hall, he allowed Harry to go and sit with his friends for a bit while he headed to the High Table, moving towards McGonagall who seemed tired of having to deal with the people being here.  
  
   “You’re doing a splendid job with Potter, Severus,” said the witch, Hagrid beside her and giving a grin behind his bushy beard. “Soon enough they should be gone, and I do apologise for you having to put up with them.”  
  
   “I don’t see why you couldn’t have done this,” Snape said roughly, “You are, after all, the Head of Gryffindor, and more suited for the position.”  
  
   “As Headmistress of Hogwarts, don’t think I am not also being hounded by these… _people_ ,” Minerva hissed. “I would have thought this a great opportunity for you and Potter to be seen together.”  
  
   Seen together? Snape lifted a brow as he sat down. “You _wish_ for the public to know of this?” he asked. “Do you have any idea what might happen to Hogwarts if this goes public? Not to mention our _lives._ ”  
  
   “They will find out one day, Severus, they may as well get used to seeing the two of you together,” the witch said sharply. “Besides, I was not speaking of your relationship. It is good to see you in a more positive spotlight. You are simply his escort, Severus, nothing more. And if you are being this snappy around him, then believe me, the public will think nothing of it.”   
   No, it was certainly best for their relationship to be on the low down. If the public found out about this? She could only imagine the drama that may come after it! It was better to slowly let them come to terms with them being together.  
  
   Severus just looked away. He wasn’t going to get into an argument over this. McGonagall was the Headmistress, and he was sure this was the first break she’d gotten the whole day. The afternoon was going to be packed with more annoying people, and so he decided some food really wouldn’t be so bad.   
  
*****   
   “There… it wasn’t too bad, was it?” Harry grinned, though very tiredly. His hair was a mess now, and he was ready to get out of these dressy clothes. But he was more than thankful that the day was over. And, of course, glad that Snape didn’t have to put up with any more of it either.  
  
   “It was dreadful,” Snape muttered, “Every moment of it was agonising.” Of course, he wasn’t used to being around so many people, and he was quite exhausted after the whole thing. Thank Merlin the day was over, and he was ready to lock himself in his office and go to sleep. Damn, he had papers to grade, he couldn’t even do that! He moaned mentally. Even the Dark Lord was less tedious.   
  
   Harry just grinned, though apologised softly. “I did like that you were there, though,” he smiled.   
  
   “Potter, if every day of your life is going to be that way…”  
  
   “Yes?”  
  
   Snape just looked at the Gryffindor before expelling a sigh, “Then I assume I’ll have to deal with it. But don’t expect me to tend to fancy dinners or the like.”   
  
   “Wouldn’t dream of it, Professor,” Harry smirked, though thinking for a moment. “What are your plans for tonight, if you don’t mind me asking?”  
  
   Continuing to walk down the corridor, Severus took a glimpse at the young man. “I have papers to grade and I think the both of us need an early night. You may be used to this attention, Potter, but I assure you, I am not. Do not forget that you will be doing the same with McGonagall tomorrow.”   
  
   Harry felt guilty about that. He knew it wasn’t all by choice that Snape had come and escorted him today. He knew McGonagall was busy and so chose him, but he still felt guilty. He knew very well that Snape enjoyed his solitude over a crowd of hungry reporters. Honestly, solitude sounded rather nice right now, and he was happy Hogwarts was closed for the evening.   
   “Can I come and stay with you?” he asked, Snape slowing down as he looked at him, “Unless I’d get in your way, then that’s okay. I just kind of like the silence, and going back to the common-room will probably be horribly rowdy. I think I’ve had enough attention for one day.”   
  
   The thought of Harry spending time with him grading papers made Severus uneasy. “Potter, you’re going to be bored out of your mind. I know what you Gryffindors are like. The moment your mind strays you’ll be touching things that don’t belong to you and looking for trouble.”   
  
   Harry laughed. “Well, what if I said it involved Potions? Could you help me with my homework?” he asked, brows arching as he looked to the Potions master.   
  
   Puppy eyes did not work on Severus Snape. “Potter, I am your Potions teacher, I hardly think it wise if others noticed you all of a sudden getting the highest score in the school. Merlin knows Miss Granger would notice, and your results are only starting to just improve.”   
  
   “I’m still going that bad?” Harry asked, stopping.  
  
   Snape stopped and looked at the tired young man. “I didn’t say that you were bad, Potter, you’re always jumping to conclusions.”   
  
   Harry knew he’d never be as good as Hermione, but he still needed to _pass_ Potions to become an Auror. “I don’t want to fail, Professor…”  
  
   “And you won’t if you listen closely in classes,” reassured Snape.  
  
   Harry felt his cheeks go a little pink. “It’s hard to listen when your professor’s kinda hot.”  
  
   Severus froze, his hands going by his side. He had no idea how Harry (or anyone) could see him as attractive. He was pale, his nose had been broken multiple times during childhood, his hair was constantly oily from standing over cauldrons all bloody day and he was hardly nice.   
   Still, somehow, and he tried not to question how, Harry had come to like him. Before or after their magic had connected, he didn’t know, but he didn’t mind either. It was strange to accept it, but Harry was here telling him what he thought. Even if it made him feel awkward, it was still nice.  
   “Potter,” he started, looking at the young man. He hated when their magic did this! He could feel it already attracting one another. It had been pestering him all day, and now that he was finally alone with Harry, it was beginning to try and urge him closer.   
  
   “I just want to spend time with you,” Harry admitted, “is that so bad?”   
  
   No, of course it wasn’t, and Snape resisted the urge to get any closer to the Gryffindor. “You’ve had a long day, Potter, you should get to bed as soon as possible. I am sure your friends are eager to see you.”  
  
   Why did he always have to do that!? Turn into his professor instead of his partner? Harry nodded, though hiding his disappointment. How he would really like to undo all of those buttons in front of him.   
   He could feel his own magic calling to the other, and he wanted nothing more than to get Snape alone (truly alone) and press himself against him. He was probably lucky that he was tired, otherwise his magic would be much stronger and he doubted he’d be able to truly stop himself.   
   Instead, Snape led him quietly to the Great Hall and he shared dinner with his friends. Thankfully, Ron and Hermione didn’t ask too many questions about the day, and Harry realised that he really was quite tired.   
   After dinner, he headed off with his House back the Gryffindor Tower and went to bed.   
   Harry’s sleep didn’t last long, though. He woke up panting, covered in a thick sweat as his body filled with a familiar warm flush. His magic was prickling against his skin as the imagines from his dream taunted him. His body was tingling horribly from the sensation of Severus Snape being against his back in his dream.   
   Looking at the out of focus ceiling, he caught his breath, swallowing hard as he realised he still had an erection. His magic was taunting him this much that it wouldn’t even give him a proper wet dream!? Instead, his member was just sitting hard against his lower belly, throbbing for attention.   
   Leaning up, he quickly put his glasses on to check if anyone had woken up. He’d put a silencing ward up, but he was still nervous. Luckily, though, everyone was sound asleep in their beds. He, however, knew he wasn’t going to get to sleep any time soon. No, there was something on his mind, and he knew it wasn’t going to go away any time soon.   
   He didn’t know if it was because he was half-asleep or because his magic was driving him there, or maybe it was just what he truly wanted, but he grabbed his father’s Invisibility Cloak and opened the door as quietly as possible, heading out of Gryffindor Tower with his wand in his hand—just in case.   
   He padded his way softly down the corridors, not even thinking of the consequences. He didn’t think of maybe meeting Filch or Peeves along the way and getting caught, and he certainly didn’t think that Snape would even care if he came to his door at who knows what hour it was in the morning. He didn’t even check. He just went to the destination he was craving, his magic urging him more and more.   
   Once he reached the dungeons, he lifted his hand and knocked on the door, knowing very well that Snape would be alerted that someone was at his door—as he was a professor and Head of House.   
  
   Inside Snape’s office, Fawkes stirred as he heard the tapping from the door. The candles were low, but his feathers illuminated enough when he wished them to, and he stretched tiredly before flapping down to the sleeping Slytherin who was still dressed in his coat and had fallen asleep at his desk.   
  
   Snape instantly awoke, as if from a bad dream and pushed himself back up into a seated position, instantly regretting it from the kink in his neck. How the hell had he managed to fall asleep at his desk? Oh right, it wasn’t anything new, was it? He worked late most nights and today had been tiring.   
   Running a hand down his face, he gave a tired but grouchy sigh as he heard the knocking on the door. If this was a bloody student asking him to escort them to the bathroom or something again, he was going to drag them back inside the Slytherin common-room by the scruff of their neck.   
   Considering his office was still lit up from the candles, he pushed himself up and headed over to the door, stretching his body before opening it. To his annoyance, no one was there. He took a step outside, his brow furrowing as he gave a confused look. Perhaps it had been in his sleep?  
   He shook his head, rubbing his forehead as he turned back to go inside. However, he stopped in his tracks as he saw half of Harry Potter popped out of what looked like nowhere just inside his office.  
   “Potter, what are you doing!?” he hissed, stepping inside and instantly closing the door behind him in case someone caught him here. “You are going to get yourself into serious trouble. Roaming about the castle after hours,” he scoffed, grabbing the Cloak and tossing it from the Gryffindor, who was in his pyjamas, so he couldn’t run away from him beneath it.   
  
   “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it, I just… I had to come here,” Harry said, picking up the Cloak and putting it onto the lounge. He looked around, realising Snape was still dressed in today’s clothes. “Do you ever sleep?” he asked, though realising the man looked rough.   
  
   “I fell asleep at my desk, but that’s beside the point,” Snape snapped. “What the hell are you doing down here? If anyone saw you…” He huffed, folding his arms. There was no point in arguing it, Harry had always been one to roam around at night. “Do you require a phial of Sleeping Draught?”   
  
   “No,” Harry said, feeling an intense urge to be against the man. He looked so human when he was confused and had just woken up, it was rather cute in a way. He moved closer, wanting to touch Snape, but trying horribly to keep to himself. His magic was itching, screaming at him to get closer!  
  
   Brushing his hair from his face, Snape looked at the eager green eyes of the Gryffindor in front of him. “Then what was so important that you needed to come down here underneath that Cloak?” he asked brusquely.   
  
   Harry moved closer and Snape leant against his desk. “I couldn’t sleep,” he murmured. “Well, I could, but I woke up and then I knew I couldn’t get back to sleep. I had this sudden urge to come see you. To be with you…” Harry explained quickly, adjusting his glasses. “I don’t know what it is, if it’s my magic or not but… can’t you feel it? It’s driving me mental.”   
  
   Realising Harry had moved relatively close, Severus just watched those green eyes. They were burning with need, and he could feel Harry’s magic in the air, crawling against his own skin. He swallowed hard as he realised the hot surge that flowed through his own body in need at the Gryffindor being here inside his quarters.  
   Merlin, Harry looked so messy and almost innocent in those horrid pyjamas of his. The way his eyes looked at him, almost hungry in need and desire. Severus found himself unable to look away from the young man.  
   “Harry, you really shouldn’t be down here,” he tried to say, “I will get you something so you can rest easy tonight.” He moved to walk over to the shelf, but was stopped when he felt Harry’s hand go against his arm, a flow of magic surging through his body and making him look at the young man once more.  
  
   “Professor—Severus… please,” Harry said almost as if he were in pain. The magic was getting worse, and he couldn’t take it anymore! He just wanted the man to be against him. He could feel their magic going haywire as they were standing there, and it wasn’t even skin on skin. Harry’s hand was on the thick wool of Snape’s coat, and how he wished he could undo all those buttons and feel that pale skin of his under his fingertips.   
  
   Why did he have to say it like that? So needy? Pleading for his help. Pleading for the magic to stop driving him insane. Severus didn’t know to move or not, he just felt the hand on his arm smooth up over his shoulder, Harry’s chest soon flush against his own, those green eyes piercing his ever-so-gently.  
  
   “I can’t take it anymore, Professor, please let me be with you,” said the Gryffindor, somehow plucking the courage to run his hands down Severus’ chest. Already he could feel his member stirring once more against his thigh, wanting to be let out and played with. His lips parted as he wanted to taste Snape’s once more. It felt like it had been so long since they had last kissed. He wanted so much more!   
  
   Severus’ breath caught in his throat as he felt like he was going to be strangled by the magic that intertwined around them. His eyes didn’t once leave Harry’s, and he could feel his heart beating like a drum inside his chest.  
   Those seeking fingers found their way down to his stomach, slipping in between the opening of his coat and finding his belt buckle. He’d be lying if he said he wanted Harry to stop. No, he didn’t. He’d wanted this all day. He was nervous and embarrassed about anyone ever seeing him naked, but the thought was soon stolen from him as he felt warm, soft lips against his own, his hands tightening around the rim of his desk as he leant into it.  
  
   “Professor…” Harry moaned needily, deepening the kiss between them, their magic curling between one another. “Please don’t tease me again.” His hands went down the front of Snape’s trousers and felt the erection beneath, getting a short gasp from the Slytherin, his body stiffening sharply.   
  
   Severus felt his eyes close as every other sensation felt so fresh, those nimble fingers slipping into his belt. “Harry… we shouldn’t…” he tried to say, his voice clearly deceiving him, and once more, he was hushed with a hot kiss.  
   Tasting the Gryffindor, Severus was unable to stop himself, his hands leaving the desk and taking Harry’s hips, slipping underneath the long T-shirt the young man was wearing, feeling his warm, soft and silky skin.   
  
   “Oh, that feels good,” Harry murmured, swallowing hard as their kiss soon became more brutal. He felt Snape’s skilled potion fingers curl into his hair, and his own hands started undoing the buttons on Snape’s coat, pushing it down over his shoulders.  
  
   “Wait!” Severus said, pushing himself up. “You don’t even know what you’re doing…!” Hell, he didn’t even know what he was doing!  
  
   “I don’t care, to be honest,” Harry breathed, looking at the exciting state the professor was in, his coat halfway down his arms to show the white shirt and cravat he wore beneath it. Blimey, he looked gorgeous when he was roughened up.   
   Harry bit his lip. “Call an elf, they’ll get you protection. I don’t care how, I just want you inside me tonight. I can’t stand it anymore, I can’t stand not being able to touch you! Being able to feel you…! I know, I sound like I’ve gone mental, but I’ve never had this feeling before. Not with anyone before, and… Blimey, you look hot when you’re uncomfortable. I never would have thought I’d ever see you like this, but I like it.”  
  
   Snape looked away instantly. As cold hearted as he was and appeared to others, sex wasn’t exactly Severus’ strong point, and he did become rather embarrassed by the whole concept.   
   “Potter, I don’t need an elf to give you protection, I’m a Potions master.”  
  
   “Y-you can brew things for that?” Harry asked, brows lifting in surprise. “Wait… I thought you said you’d never… Why would you be making things like that?”  
  
   “They’re not for me!” Snape hissed. “They’re for others… Students, in case something happens, or… I’ll have you know, some of the teachers here can be frisky. I simply make the stuff, I don’t ever use it. I have no reason to!”   
  
   Harry smirked, though his cheeks burning. “Well, you do now, so go and find it.”   
  
   Were they really going to do this? Have… sex? Hell, it wasn’t like they really had a choice anyway. The whole day had been hectic, and watching those damn vultures pick at Harry had made him hostile and angry. His magic had been going haywire all day, and now it seemed impossible to not answer its needy call.   
   He quickly pushed past Harry and headed to the shelves, pushing some of the flagons aside until he grabbed what he was looking for. When he turned back around, Harry was standing shirtless, his soft, toned skin glowing from the candlelight.  
   “Merlin…” he murmured, quickly taking out the stopper and drinking some of the liquid. He dropped the bottle onto the table before claiming those swollen, red lips for his own, ignoring Fawkes as he fluffed up and turned away on his perch.  
   Harry’s hands went up to his chest once more, undoing the buttons and taking off the coat which fell easily to the floor with a thud, and they moved through the office over to the study and into the bedroom.  
   Severus instantly commanded the fire to start up with a wave of his hand before returning it to Harry’s body, the boy’s knees hitting the bed and causing him to fall onto his back—not once losing a connection between their lips as he followed, now on top of the shirtless Gryffindor.   
  
   “Nnn, Professor… “ Harry moaned, feeling his cheeks flush as his erection was pulsing heavily now. He was harder now than ever before. He ignored his shyness, his heart pounding in his chest as he could finally feel the excitement and rush of such a wonderful feeling.   
   Every hot, sweaty wet dream that he’d had about the man was absolutely nothing to this, and he felt like he was going to explode already. His fingers ripped down the white shirt, and his own magic made it come easily undone without ripping any of the buttons off.  
   Feeling the warm flesh of Snape’s chest, Harry felt his fingers tangle into the small patch of hair that was on him. He could feel small bumps every now again, but he didn’t have the time to look, feeling the uneven skin. They felt all too familiar, though. Like the lightning bolt that was on his forehead. He instantly knew they were scars.   
   He could feel his blood boiling down to its desired place, and he rolled over onto his stomach, feeling Severus’ lips on his shoulder, his chest against his back. _’Oh, God, yes…!’_ he moaned mentally, breathing hard, his skin prickling in the night.  
  
   “You understand what we are about to do…?” Severus asked, his voice shaken from the magic going between them. Harry had managed to unbuckle his belt and his trousers had slipped half way down to reveal his very Muggle grey boxers, supporting a heavy lump inside.    
  
   Although nervous, and knowing this was going to hurt, Harry was more than prepared for this. He’d wanted it for months now, and everything about it felt utterly right. He wanted their relationship to be consummated.   
   He’d seen the way Severus had been watching and looking after him all while those interviews had gone on. He knew how much he truly meant to Snape. He wanted to give the man his all. He wanted to show him that he wanted him. All of him. That he liked him. That he…   
   Feeling hot cotton press up against his backside, Harry shuddered in lust at feeling the man’s body against his, his hands clutching the sheets. “Ohh… I want it more than anything,” he said, biting his lip once more as he felt Snape’s lips move against the back of his neck and over his shoulder.  
   Fingers soon went against his hips, drawing down his pyjama pants and briefs, exposing his heated erection and pale backside. They left him for a moment, and Harry soon realised why. Snape no longer felt like cotton against him, but silky, hot skin.   
  
   Harry was gorgeous like this, and Severus wasn’t able to control himself. Whether it be from the magic that was forcing them, making them give into their desires, or whether it was because this was what he truly wanted, he didn’t know, but he soon felt the head of his throbbing member prod gently into Harry’s backside (after a moment of figuring out where everything was), the boy tensing horribly.   
   He didn’t wish to hurt him, and with his pants still halfway down his legs, he slipped his wand out, applying a thick coat of lubrication between the two. There were many reasons why he knew such a spell. Potion ingredients didn’t always come out at ease.    
   His wand soon left his hand as he slipped gently into the Gryffindor’s backside, Harry groaning, his hands clutching the sheets of the bed before saying he wanted more, for him to continue. Snape simply obliged until the friction between them was smooth and well-paced—even if it took a while.  
  
   Panting, Harry arched his neck back, fingers clawing at the sheets as his insides burned from pain and pleasure. He knew it was going to hurt, but it felt so good at the same time, and he was reassured by the smooth and soft hands of Severus Snape as they went against his chest and stomach, Harry leaning up onto his knees and sitting in the man’s lap, awkwardly moving his hips in motion to make it easier. This was the first time for both of them, so neither of them expected it to be perfect.  
   “Uhh… ohh, Snape…” he groaned, his eyes clenching hard as he felt a hand go against his thickened erection. He gasped, his hands going back against the other man’s thighs beneath him. For his first time, it wasn’t anything that he imagined it to be—it was ten times better! Whatever Snape had used, it made it seem easier, and it seemed to be a perfect amount, almost like the spell knew how much to use to stop the friction.  
   Maybe it was the magic numbing the pain, making the both of them unaware what was really happening, but he didn’t care. Any rational thought left him, and all he could feel was his magically bonded Potions professor inside his body, making him come heavily onto the green Slytherin quilt of the bed, the both of them hot and sweaty.  
   The rest of the night disappeared completely in a high of their magic.


	21. Rita Skeeter.

Chapter Twenty One: Rita Skeeter.   
  
   Severus woke up to the sound of wings flapping softly as a familiar weight landed onto his back. His hair was in his face, still unwashed from last night when he’d fallen asleep at his desk, but his face was in the comfort of his pillow. His body absolutely ached.   
   He swallowed dryly as he realised there was something else against him. Something much heavier than Fawkes. Oh, please don’t tell him last night wasn’t just another one of those magical dreams he’d suffered and that it had truly happened…?  
   Slowly, he pulled his face from his pillow, flicking his head to the side to get the hair from his eyes that stuck to his face. Beside him, leaning into the back of his shoulder was a shirtless Harry Potter, glasses crooked on his face.   
   Oh shit, it had actually happened! They’d had… sex. Severus tried to remember everything that had happened last night, but it all seemed like such a blur. It all happened so fast! He remembered Potter coming into his office, and then kissing and then…  
   Looking back at Fawkes, who waddled onto his arm sleeve—his shirt still being on—he tried to assess the situation and how the hell he was going to deal with this when Potter woke up. Should he honestly care? Part of him didn’t, but then the other part of him realised he had no fucking pants on beneath the sheets! Just a pair of white, cotton socks.   
   Gently slipping out from underneath Harry’s arm, he looked around the room, seeing his trousers across the floor, his wand sticking out of the pocket. “Fawkes…” he whispered, the bird squawking at his name. He put his finger up, urging the bird to hush. “My trousers.”   
  
   Fawkes, who perched himself on the nightstand, just looked at the pair of black pants, tilting his head curiously before looking at Snape once more.   
  
   Damn good for nothing bird! Turning his head to Harry, he quickly checked if the Gryffindor was asleep well enough. What the hell was he going to do anyway? This was his damn quarters. It wasn’t like he was going to run out of it and leave. No, he just wanted to get his damn pants, collect some clean clothes and take a shower. He could talk about it later. He felt nasty from sleeping in a dirty bed that they’d fucked in and hadn’t cleaned.   
   As gently as possible, he was able to slip away from Harry and sit up, clutching the covers. As he went to reach for his pants, Fawkes burst out with a screech that made him almost grab at the bird and kill him in frustration. He sat perfectly still.  
  
   Harry’s eyes gently fluttered open at the sound of something screeching. He groaned as his body ached, though stopping as he realised the room wasn’t the fun and encouraging yellow and gold of the Gryffindor Tower. Instead, it was draped with green and silver tapestry.   
   Instantly, he pushed his arms up, adjusting his glasses so they were straight on his face. Oh, God, he was in Snape’s bedroom! And he was… naked! And he was in Snape’s bed! He looked down at himself before shyly grabbing the covers and trying to cover his bare chest.   
   “Oh, God, what happened last night?” he asked in horror as he saw Snape beside him, sitting up. He instantly went red as he saw beneath the white shirt that Snape wasn’t wearing any kind of pants. “P-Professor?”   
  
   Snape just eyed Fawkes angrily, the bird chirping in delight. He turned over his shoulder, looking at the sight of Harry’s red cheeks. “I think that’s rather obvious, don’t you?” he almost snapped, Fawkes fetching his pants finally.   
   Taking the black trousers, he slipped them on before standing and doing his belt back up. He had no idea where his underpants had gone, but he’d deal with that later. He turned back to Harry, the boy just staring at him as the memories clearly came back to him.  
  
   Harry swallowed hard, running his hands through his messy hair. “Oh, God… I’m so sorry, I did this! I remember. I remember last night and waking up and… I’m so sorry, Professor!”   
  
   He was apologising!? Snape couldn’t believe this. Sitting back down on the side of the bed, Severus did his buttons back up on his shirt to cover his skin. “You’ve got nothing to apologise about, Potter, it wasn’t like I hadn’t encouraged such behaviour between us. I should have stopped it from happening, but I was rather weak.”  
  
   Harry looked away, frowning. “No, that’s not true…” he whispered. No, this was bound to happen. They both knew it. Their magic had been going crazy for weeks now; the both of them knew that. Last night was inevitable.   
  
   “Potter! We just… consummated this relationship! Do you honestly think people aren’t going to know!?” Snape hissed, standing back up. “Merlin, it’s late and breakfast is already being served. Why the hell didn’t you wake us up, Fawkes!?”  
  
   Fawkes just flew to the bed and sat in Harry’s lap, looking up at him gently.   
  
   Harry had a feeling Fawkes had done that on purpose. But it did cause an issue. Everyone was going to be wondering where the hell he was, not to mention with Snape missing it was going to look even worse!  
   But did they really have anything to hide? His friends knew he was in a relationship with Snape. McGonagall had even accepted it! Wasn’t sex a normal part of a relationship? Weren’t two people who were in love meant to have intimate moments?   
   Harry swallowed hard as he realised what he was thinking. Snape was grabbing his clothes around the floor and piling them into his hands. “Professor…?” he asked, Snape stopping and looking down at him, “is it really a big deal? I mean… we like each other, right? Why shouldn’t we be like normal people and… do ‘it’?”   
  
   At the look on Harry’s face, Severus placed his clothes onto the edge of the bed. “Potter, I hardly think we’re a normal ‘couple’,” he said. “You are… Harry Potter. The boy who not only lived, but the wizard who defeated the Dark Lord. Do you have any idea what kind of stories would come from this? If this were to get out?”   
  
   “So what!?” Harry asked loudly.  
  
   So what? _So what!?_ Snape gave an agitated noise. “You really want your personal and sex life to be in the tabloids!?”   
  
   Well, no, of course he didn’t, but what was Snape so worried about? Everyone had relationships! Why should they be any different? He knew he was the talk of the _Daily Prophet_ today, but that shouldn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to have sex with his… boyfriend? What the hell was Snape exactly? He supposed the man was his boyfriend, but that word just didn’t suit Snape at all!   
   “Are you… are you ashamed of this?” he asked, his eyes squinting a little as he looked to the Slytherin.   
  
   Severus frowned, his hands slapping to his sides. “Potter, I just slept with the most famous wizard of our time and you are asking me if I am ashamed?” If anything, this was something others would have been celebrating. Who _knew_ how many people out there wanted to sleep with Harry Potter!? He was famous! Courageous! Gryffindor! Attractive! Young! The list was bloody endless.    
  
   Well, it sounded stupid when he put it like that, but Harry wasn’t convinced. “You’re acting like this is a big deal. I mean… I know we had sex, but… we’re in a relationship. Why shouldn’t we be able to do things in private?” he asked, Snape having collected his pants. He grabbed them from the pile and slipped them on beneath the sheets.  
  
   Severus felt his shoulders loosen a little. Potter had a point. Yes, they were in a relationship, and yes, they should be able to do things in private. He wasn’t ashamed of Harry. How could he be? The Gryffindor was what everyone else wanted out there. How the hell had it been him, of all people, to bond with his magic?   
   “Yes, I suppose you are right,” he muttered, though still feeling highly awkward about the whole thing. After all, why couldn’t it stay private? No one knew but him and Harry. However, if McGonagall found this out? She’d already told him that they were not to display it in public for the students’ sake. But this wasn’t exactly in front of them, was it?    
   When Harry moved, it didn’t help any with his uneasiness as the young man crawled across the bed to meet him, still shirtless, his skin soft in the morning glow from the dying fire.  
  
   “You didn’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Harry smiled, taking Severus’ hand into his own. He looked down at the rolled up sleeve that probably happened during sleeping or the exciting events of last night. He turned it over, looking at the pale tattoo of the Dark Mark. He knew what it was, and what it stood for, but… there was something exciting about it being on the man’s arm. He rather liked the idea of Snape being a dark man. Of dating someone who was so different from all of his friends. It was new and exciting. Any Gryffindor liked a challenge.   
   His fingers ran up the hairless skin on the underside of the arm, feeling the small bumps from scars. “Did you try to remove it?” he asked, looking down at the number of scars on the man’s arm.   
  
   Snape tore his arm back away. “Not that is matters to you. It’s hideous. Don’t look at it.”   
  
   Harry’s brows arched as he looked up, horrified that Snape would say something like that about himself. Over the last few weeks, Severus Snape had become increasingly attractive to Harry. Before he had feelings for him, of course it wasn’t the same. Snape wasn’t the most attractive person in the world, but now he was. He was gorgeous when messy in the morning. He was cute when he was awkward. He was sexy when he was dressed up. And even the Dark Mark was deadly looking on him.   
   He took the man’s arm once more, pulling Snape down. “You’re not hideous!” he said in argument, almost too teenage-like. “So you have some scars. I have them, too… At least you don’t have to wear yours on the outside of your clothes. At least people don’t point at you and whisper, questioning if you’re the real Harry Potter or not.”   
  
   Severus frowned, relaxing his arm as he allowed Harry to trace his fingers delicately over the scarred skin. “Yes, I tried to remove it after your mother’s death… Happy now?” he said, though Harry giving him a not-so-very impressed look. Merlin, what did he want from him?   
  
   Harry opened his mouth to say something when a knock at the door was heard. He instantly looked worried as Snape looked at him, his hair flicking across his face.  
  
   “Get under the Cloak!” hissed the professor, throwing the Invisibility Cloak to Harry as he summoned it with his wand before putting it back into his pocket. When Harry was nowhere in sight, he looked down at himself that was no way near presentable, trying to brush his messy hair away from his face before he headed to the office door and opened it. Standing on the other side was Minerva McGonagall. His heart skipped a beat.  
  
   “Severus,” said the witch, looking the man up and down as he was messy looking, “… Did I come at a bad time?”  
  
   “I just fell asleep on my desk, that’s all,” lied the Potions master, putting a hand onto the threshold as if to hide the scene that was in the next room. Merlin, he just realised he had no underpants on beneath his trousers, and it was horribly uncomfortable.   
  
   “Oh, well…” Minerva noted, looking through the office for a moment before she saw the man’s arm was uncovered. She eyed it curiously before Severus realised what she was looking at, instantly rolling down his sleeve and putting his hands behind his back.   
   “Severus, is something going on here that you wish to inform me of?” she asked curiously, seeing the sheets of the bed that were clearly messed up and half laying on the floor. If Severus had fallen asleep at his desk, then why would the bed be messy at all? She didn’t take Severus Snape to be messy like that. In fact, she knew he wasn’t.   
  
   When McGonagall entered the room, Severus tried to look as casually dark as normal. “No, Headmistress,” he said calmly, his hands still behind his back. “I was just getting ready for a bath. If you don’t mind, can this wait until I am more presentable? I don’t wish to head to the Great Hall such a mess.”   
  
   In the next room, Harry saw McGonagall looking past Snape, and he felt his body instantly heat up at the thought of McGonagall catching him in here. At the same time, he still didn’t quite understand why Snape cared so much about this getting out. Sure, it would be embarrassing, but would McGonagall tell? Besides Dumbledore’s portrait maybe. Shouldn’t she know that these events were happening? Their magic outlawed the Ministry anyway, so why was it such a big deal? Besides it being the talk of Hogwarts and the _Prophet_. That he could understand. But who the hell would tell them?  
   Fawkes was looking at him beneath the cloak, and he swallowed hard, trying to make him look away. “Fawkes,” he whispered, “go to Snape! You can’t be looking at me, McGonagall will see you!” Instantly, a cry came from the phoenix which got McGonagall’s attention in the next room which was quite visible from his spot. Severus was playing it off well—he was actually very gifted in lying, but he didn’t know if it was enough.  
  
   Severus turned sharply. “Nothing to concern yourself with, Fawkes is just being temperamental as he hasn’t been out in a while. I will make sure he gets plenty of exercise,” he said, nudging his head towards the door or his office. “Was there something you needed?”   
  
   Minerva turned back to the dark haired man. “Potter is missing. His friends said that he hadn’t been in the common-room when they awoke and they are worried. I thought you may know of his disappearance through the night.”   
  
   “Potter’s made it clear he likes to roam the castle at night, I’m positive he will show up soon,” Snape drawled, his hands still behind his back. “If he shows up, I will be sure to push him in your direction.”  
  
   “Good, because the _Prophet_ is still here and ready for a second day with the boy. I thought you could use a break, and as I am not busy today, I thought I could take him around.”  
  
   Of course they wanted _more_ from Harry. Snape felt his insides go tight, but his expression stayed unreadable. “Well, you are the Headmistress, I am certain it would keep a good image for the two of you and Hogwarts as a whole. Now, if you don’t mind, falling asleep at my desk has made me quite uncomfortable.” It wasn’t like it was a complete lie, and Severus was rather gifted with lying as it was.  
  
   McGonagall shook her head. “Even when you were a boy, you worked yourself too hard, Severus,” she muttered, putting a hand to his shoulder. “Get yourself presentable, and if you find Potter, please send him my way.”  
  
   “Of course, Headmistress,” Snape said, putting his hand onto the door and closing it when Minerva walked out. He pressed a hand to his forehead before quickly turning around, though freezing instantly when the door burst open again.  
  
   “Severus Snape! Don’t you dare tell me that you and Potter spent the night together _this_ weekend!?”  
  
   Cringing mentally, Snape turned back around with a very straight face. “I beg your pardon?” he asked as if offended. Minerva just walked over to the very Harry Potter style T-shirt that was sitting on the lounge in his office. Damnit… In the heat of the moment, he’d forgotten Harry had taken his top off and left it in here last night. All he could think of was the damn Cloak of his!  
  
   “Did you think I wouldn’t see this!? Where is he? Potter!?”   
  
   Harry felt himself instantly go stiff beneath the Invisibility Cloak, his face going red with horror. He didn’t move, though. He was too terrified to with the tone in McGonagall’s voice.   
  
   “You tell him to come out this instant or I will search these quarters high and low, Severus!” snapped the Headmistress.  
  
   Severus moved awkwardly. “Potter had a chill, and he simply came to me for a potion. He must have forgotten it when he left after I took his temperature,” he tried, shrugging gently. “You don’t think I’d honestly sleep with the boy, do you?” He gave a rather horrid look at the thought, though stepping back when Minerva poked him in the chest.  
  
   “Don’t lie to me, Severus, I know very well what happened here last night. If you hadn’t noticed, it’s already all over the school! Rita Skeeter saw him come in last night and very well knows the door didn’t open all night!”  
  
   That _witch!_ Clearly she’d been in her unregistered Animagus form, otherwise Harry would have seen her last night. She must have been waiting there before the boy had come down to the dungeons. But why!? Was she spying on him!? Perhaps she was stalking Harry after hours?   
   As angry and horrified as he was, he questioned why the hell Minerva had come in here so cheerily? Did she honestly think he would just come out with it? This was Snape! Not to mention he’d lied multiple times to her face just now…  
   Severus found himself unable to get out of this situation, and he just looked at Minerva apologetically. “Oh, don’t give me that look! You were the one that damn well knew this was going to happen!” he snapped. “You and your Gryffindor behaviour, pushing and shoving and then making me escort him around all yesterday! You have no idea what that did to me!” He’d become horribly possessive and frustrated. All night the only thing on his mind had been how to take Harry as his own before he’d fallen asleep at his desk.  
  
   “You couldn’t keep it in your pants for _one_ more night, Severus!? You could have done this any other night, the two of you, and Skeeter wouldn’t have been here, but you just _had_ to do it the night she was roaming the castle!?” the witch yelled. “Oh, Severus, for a Slytherin you can be quite daft.”   
  
   Snape just gave an embarrassed look, knowing very well what he had caused by giving into Harry last night. He wasn’t one to usually stand down in a fight when it came to Minerva McGonagall, but he did know when he was defeated by the witch.   
  
   “Professor, it wasn’t his fault! I came down last night and… It’s my fault,” came Harry’s voice, both eyes instantly looking to him. He’d grabbed one of Snape’s shirts that had been folded on the table and tossed it over himself—even if baggy. He didn’t wish for the Headmistress of Hogwarts to see him topless. The whole situation was embarrassing enough.   
  
   McGonagall’s expression didn’t change. She was fuming. “You stupid boy,” she said, though sighing. “Do you two have any idea how fast this will spread to the _Prophet?_ Severus Snape, the man who had been protecting Potter all this time? Oh, this is exactly what those people are looking for! Another big story, and you two have gone and given that to them right from the palm of your hands!”   
  
   “Sorry,” Harry said, his eyes going down. “I didn’t know… I didn’t think-,”  
  
   “No, you weren’t thinking at all, Potter, at least not with your first head, anyway,” Minerva said, shaking her head as Harry just went a bright shade of red. “Potter, I want you up in the Gryffindor common-room immediately, and Severus… get yourself looking like an actual professor who works here.” McGonagall turned on her heal and opened the door, waiting for Harry.   
  
   Harry looked to Snape, giving him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry…” he murmured, taking the Cloak into his hands as well as his pyjama shirt. Snape was silent as he walked past him, heading outside of the dungeons.  
   As he stepped out, immediately there was a bright flash in his eyes, and he covered them, wincing. When his eyes came back into focus, Rita Skeeter was standing with her quill scribbling, her photographer behind his large camera.   
   He looked down at himself as he realised he was wearing one of Snape’s shirts. Now it was way more obvious to what happened last night!   
  
   “Out of the way!” McGonagall yelled, pushing past the woman and her photographer.   
  
   “Harry Potter, tell us what it’s like to be in love with a Hogwarts professor! Sharing a bed with them at night!” Skeeter asked eagerly as she chased the two of them away from the dungeons. “Has this been going on since Severus Snape first saw you here at Hogwarts? How delightfully juicy! Protecting you all this time, a spy for You-Know-Who.”   
  
   Harry was being pulled along roughly by McGonagall, and the Headmistress turned to Skeeter with a very nasty look in her green eyes.  
  
   “Get away from here before I toss you out myself,” the woman hissed, Rita Skeeter stopping immediately when she saw just how serious she was. “I want you off the grounds immediately! Potter will not be having any more interviews with you today. And I will be reporting you to the Ministry for trespassing! That is my final word.”   
  
   Harry was dragged away once more by the Headmistress, leading him up to the common-room and throwing him inside. He knew he’d done wrong, but what the hell was the big deal!? Hogwarts wasn’t going to get into trouble by this. If anything, Harry and Snape were the ones who were going to get harassed by his fellow students!   
   “Professor, I’m really sorry…” he said again, rubbing his arm to where she had gripped it. “I didn’t know she was there! I mean… no one will believe her anyway! Her stories are always blown out of proportion!” he said, trying to get her to remember what the woman had said about him and Hermione in their fourth year.   
  
   “It doesn’t matter if people believe it or not, it’s still going to blow up and cause trouble for the school! Do you have any idea what parents will be saying about being exposed to… _this!?_ ”  
  
   Harry looked up, brows furrowing. “But Snape told me that Ancient Magic overrides the Ministry’s rules. So what if he and I… are together?” he asked.   
  
   “Ohh, Potter,” she groused shakily. “Severus is a professor, how do you think he’s going to deal with students harassing him over this? Not to mention your own skin! You have exams. If you want to pass, how do you expect to do so with the _Prophet_ spreading rumours and your fellow students whispering even more?”  
  
   “I don’t care!” Harry yelled. “I don’t care what they say! What is so bad about being in a relationship!? Loads of students here are in relationships, and I’m sure they’re not keeping it in their pants. At least mine and Snape’s is real! Our magic is bonded, and… I don’t care if anyone makes fun of that! I’m used to being in the paper! I stopped caring what they said years ago!”  
  
   “And what of Professor Snape? Have you thought of him!?” snapped the Headmistress. Snape was almost like a son to her. She and Dumbledore had taken him in when he needed them, and she was well aware of how the other teachers saw him.   
   She had been the one to look after him. Even if they were snappy to one another and enemy Houses. It was why she was so hurt when she thought that he had betrayed them all and was fighting for Voldemort. It hurt even more to know that Dumbledore had kept it from her and sworn Severus to secrecy.   
   They had _both_ taken Severus in, and he had been _their_ responsibility as a young teacher here at Hogwarts. And now he’d done something like this!? Something so thoughtless! And lied to her face! How many other times had Severus lied to her so easily!? Without even a flinch or a twitch!   
  
   Harry gave her a confused look, not understanding. He knew Snape wasn’t used to the attention, but this seemed like something so much worse than that.   
   “Why do you care…?” he asked, shrugging in the large shirt. “What happens in the papers about me and Severus Snape has nothing to do with you. I get the whole school thing, but I can’t see how it’s a bad thing… Hogwarts can’t get into trouble about this, not when Ancient Magic stands over the Ministry.”   
  
   McGonagall sighed, pushing her glasses up lightly. “I worry for the both of you, Potter. You may be used to this kind of attention, but I assure you, this will not be easy for Professor Snape. You are not to return to his quarters! Is that clear?”  
  
   What!? Harry didn’t believe this! “You were the one that said it was okay for us to be together! Now you’re going to go back on that!?”  
  
   “Yes, well, that was before you two couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves! And clearly your bodies! I will not have that disruption in my school. If you and Severus wish to continue this relationship, then it will be done outside of Hogwarts and away from the eyes of other students!   
   “As a Head of House, it is Severus’ responsibility to look after his students. He cannot do that if you are there, Potter. I’m sorry… my decision is final…” she murmured, knowing very well that it was going to be tough on them.  
  
   Harry felt his chest cave. After all this time!? How could they keep away from one another when they’d just experienced something as amazing as last night!? He wanted to talk to Snape, make sure he was alright! How could she do something like this!? Drag them away and keep them apart when they _needed_ to talk.   
   “Professor, please… you can’t do this! You can’t go back on your word!”  
  
   “I never said that you and Professor Snape could have _intercourse_ , Potter. I merely explained that you could be in a relationship. But doing such things on the school grounds? I’m sorry, Potter, but this is for the best of the students here, as well as the both of you. Now go get dressed and clean yourself up. You will be expected to make another appearance today.” Maybe not with Rita Skeeter, but he still had interviews with others. Knowing Rita Skeeter, she would keep this to herself and her article, so it shouldn’t come up in any interviews today.   
   “Go grab some clothes and I will be waiting for you at the bathrooms. You will need to clean yourself before going out there. And, Potter… don’t think I am any more happy about this than you are, I am merely doing my duty as Headmistress of Hogwarts.”   
  
   Harry just looked down, angry about the whole thing. He quickly turned around and stormed up the stairs to get some new clothes. He hated this! He hated that this one thing had determined so much for them, and now they couldn’t even be seen together!? They had Potions together! Snape taught him! He understood that the students could be weird about it, but honestly, there were things he could tell McGonagall that would make her hair curl about some of the other students at Hogwarts!   
   His and Snape’s relationship was formed by their magic! That was something they couldn’t help! They’d tried to resist it, and McGonagall and Dumbledore had pushed them together. Just what the hell had changed McGonagall’s mind about this!?   
   He sighed angrily and grabbed some new clothes. Today was going to be horrible!  
  
*****  
   Severus had spent most of the day inside his office. He’d fixed the bed, taken a bath and cleaned his clothes after finding them all. The day had been awkward and strange, but that didn’t mean he regretted the events of last night.  
   He and Harry had been waiting for months to finally even touch one another, and last night they had consummated their relationship by going all the way. A kiss here and there was fine, but making that final step? It had felt amazing.   
   Sure, it may not have been planned and it was certainly spontaneous for a Slytherin, but it was out of his control. Their magic was strong and it had been _dying_ for them to connect to one another. And they had. And he wanted to do it again.   
   He had skipped breakfast, mainly for Harry’s sake. Also, he had no desire to see McGonagall at all right now. He felt horrible for what he had done and may have caused to the school, but he couldn’t regret his actions fully. Minerva had said quite simply that it was allowed, and it wasn’t his fault that that stupid bitch Rita Skeeter had been stalking the dungeons at night. She should be thrown out for her actions! She shouldn’t have even _been_ on the damn grounds! This was a boarding school! No visitors were allowed after hours unless told otherwise! She had better get punished or else!   
   Shaking his head, he continued to work on his papers, only stopping when he heard the inevitable knock on his door. This time, there was no time to answer it, Minerva didn’t give him that privacy and instead pushed the door open, stepping inside. Privacy was a privilege, and he had lost that.  
  
   “Severus, we need to talk about the events of last night and this morning,” the witch said, closing the door behind her. Fawkes was sitting on his perch nibbling on a treat as he watched her come inside.   
  
   Severus didn’t stand, nor did he stop his work. “Headmistress, I would greatly appreciate if it was never mentioned again,” he said, scribbling a cross on the parchment. He did not want to discuss what he and Harry had done last night with McGonagall. It felt horribly awkward and embarrassing. Hell, even thinking about having had sex with Harry made him blush.   
  
   “Severus, why didn’t you talk to me about this?” asked the witch, Severus just looking at her strangely as he finally stopped work. “I may be the Headmistress here, but you do know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you?”  
  
   Oh, Merlin, it was one of those conversations. Severus put his hands into his lap feeling even worse as he avoided eye contact. “Minerva, please.”  
  
   “When Dumbledore and I took you in, you were our responsibility. When your mother and father died, we were the ones to look after you, and once I already thought that you betrayed me. I can understand that you kept secrets from me then, under Dumbledore’s orders, but I will not have you doing it again! Let alone lying to my face so easily.”   
  
   “What did you want me to tell you!?” Snape hissed, standing up. “I had no clue it would happen! I didn’t even… _think_ it was possible! It’s Potter! The boy’s hated me since he came here, and I can’t blame him. I put him through Hell and back, and I disliked him just as much, and then…”  
   Running a hand through his washed hair, he leant against the edge of his desk. “I don’t need this conversation, Headmistress, I have papers that need finishing.”   
  
   “Severus Tobias Snape!”  
  
   “Do not call me that!” Snape snapped, pointing to the witch. He hated his disgusting and abusive Muggle father! He would not be called after him through his middle name. “You and Dumbledore are to blame for this, not Harry or I. You two were the ones who pushed us to finally accept these feelings we had for one another. You did nothing to stop them! You even informed me that our magic overpowered the Ministry when it came to wizarding law! And now you expect to guilt trip me because I gave into a primal instinct!?”    
  
   “You _slept_ with him, Severus. Do you have any idea what this is going to do to the school!? What this is going to do to you!? Your job? Your students are going to give you Hell for this!”   
  
   Snape knew what the consequences were. It wasn’t like he was exactly thinking with his brain last night, and he certainly didn’t think Rita Skeeter would have seen something like this. He knew by tomorrow morning it would be posted in the _Daily Prophet_ and he would have to deal with the students on a Monday morning asking him, harassing him and teasing him about the whole thing.  
  
   “You should have come to me… I could have arranged something between the two of you,” Minerva said, her voice going soft now.   
  
   “I already made clear that I was not thinking, that I was not expecting such events to unfold. Never would I ever…” He looked down. “Minerva, I am deeply apologetic for what this may cause to the school, but you can’t honestly think that we could have stopped this from happening. Potter is an eighteen year old teenager, his hormones are surely all over the place, and-,”  
  
   “You’re a perfectly capable adult, Severus. Don’t even tell me that this was tempting just because of your solitude.”   
  
   “No,” Snape drawled. “I take full responsibility for my actions. I should have stopped it from going any further, and I did not. I was weak, I understand that.”   
   Severus turned back around and sat down at his desk, his hands going to his lap. He’d been alone for many years, in love with someone who he could never have and for the first time someone had actually showed interest to him.   
   He didn’t try and understand how he and Potter’s magic had come to bond, nor how he and Potter had even come to _like_ one another, but they did. And last night had been one of the most powerful things he’d ever felt. The Gryffindor’s magic was intense when intertwined with his own, and utterly arousing.   
   “What is the real reason you are here?” he muttered, looking back up to the Headmistress of Hogwarts. Surely she was here for an actual purpose and not to just try and educate him on sex and the fact that he could ask her things—which he would _never_ do. McGonagall may have taken him in, but he was old enough to know what sex was and how it worked.  
  
   “For the safety of the students, you and Potter will not be able to show you are in a relationship during school days,” McGonagall said, Snape’s eyes lowering. “You are a professor here at Hogwarts, and thus you will act as one.”  
  
   “You do realise what you are doing, Headmistress?” he said calmly, despite the medley of emotions he was feeling right now.   
  
   “Believe me, Severus, I know that yours and Potter’s magic will be active when you are close, but I must do this for Hogwarts and its students.”  
  
   “They learn sex education, what could you possibly be protecting them from?” Snape questioned harshly. Just because Hogwarts was a school for witches and wizards didn’t mean they stopped learning how the world worked. Sex education was still mandatory at this school as it was with any as they reached the age. Witches and wizards were stull human!   
  
   Minerva frowned. “I am protecting the both of you by doing this. You have students to teach and it will not be easy if you and Potter share classes. They will think you are bias and every test result will be questionable.”  
  
   Snape stood back up, his hands slapping onto the desk. “Why did you allow this in the first place, then!? Just to strip it away from us!? You were the one who accepted this relationship! You allowed us to act upon our feelings! We did. And all of a sudden it’s a crime against the students!? I would never favour Potter’s scores just because I slept with him! What kind of professor do you take me for?”  
  
   Coming from someone who clearly favoured his Slytherin’s above all, it actually wasn’t hard to see Severus keeping Potter’s scores as honest as possible. But she knew Severus didn’t favour on test results, simply in the hallways and in Quidditch.   
   McGonagall looked up at the taller man, frowning. “Severus, you performed a sexual act on a student in the school. If this had of been at your own home in Spinner’s End, then I could have excused it. When you asked if your relationship was acceptable on the grounds, you did not mention a sexual one. I would have thought you to be more professional with the matter. I am sorry, but this is my final decision. You and Potter are to act completely professional whilst in school.”  
  
   That was for a whole fucking year! Snape _knew_ they couldn’t last that long without doing something illicit to what McGonagall was saying.   
   “Headmistress, please reconsider this! Whatever I have done to make you upset, I apologise, but tormenting the both of us like this? What do you possibly think it will achieve!?”   
  
   “You may spend weekends together, but that is all,” Minerva said finally, heading to the door. Fawkes made a rather angry screech which caught her attention as Snape walked over to him to hush him.   
   “I advise you to prepare for tomorrow morning when the _Prophet_ arrives by the post… Goodnight, Severus.”   
  
   As the door closed, Snape let his hands fall down to his side. He understood the safety of the students, he understood that he and Potter could cause a lot of tension in classes and between students, but what he couldn’t understand was why Minerva McGonagall seemed to upset over the whole thing when she had been the one in the first place to accept their relationship as something public.   
   Feeling a light nibble on his sleeve, he turned to the phoenix who was seated on his perch. He gently scratched the phoenix’s neck before returning to his papers for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so over on Ffnet a few people has an issue with McGonagall here. Please understand that with my writing not EVERYTHING is explained here and there. Things come out from the past, the future, whatever. Eventually things wrap up and get explained.
> 
> For me, McGonagall is a huge motherly figure for Snape, and him lying to her, betraying her trust AGAIN, is going to hurt her. She's going to act out. Let's face it, she can be EXTREMELY strict and snappy. It's also her SOLE responsibility to look AFTER the students--including Harry and all the other students. So this is her way of dealing with it right now. For me, personally, I feel this is the way she'd act upon knowing a student and a teacher slept together. She was all for their relationship yes, but this was fast moving and will now be possibly made public! Gotta understand she's pissy... Don't get in my grill about it. It's not going to change...


	22. The Daily Prophet.

Chapter Twenty Two: The Daily Prophet.   
  
   Harry lay in bed, unable to sleep. His mind was racing about what was going to happen tomorrow. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to talk to Snape about anything, either. The other had skipped breakfast, lunch and tea the whole day, so he hadn’t even seen him. He wondered if he had done that on purpose, to stay away from him?  
   What if after this Snape didn’t want anything to do with him? He couldn’t even stand the _thought_ of that! Not when they’d just slept together. Snape was his first… and that was somewhat important to him. He hadn’t even slept with Ginny. He was thankful for that now, but God… Snape had been perfect in every way last night. He couldn’t get the images and feelings out of his head—even if he was still sore.  
   McGonagall was pissed, he knew, and she’d made it clear the whole day. It had been long, and Harry had been rather distant with the people from the _Prophet_. Luckily, Skeeter hadn’t reappeared and only a few students were starting to whisper. No one had approached him about it, though. He figured it was just a rumour right now. McGonagall had said it was all over the school, but he was surprised that it wasn’t. She’d just overreacted.   
   He hadn’t even told Ron and Hermione what had happened. He was, admittedly, too embarrassed to. What would they think!? Well… if what McGonagall said was true, and it was going to be in the papers tomorrow, then he figured they’d find out soon enough.   
   Rolling onto his back, he stared at the ceiling, his glasses still on. He wanted to feel that magic against him again. It was amazing, like the warmth of the sun against his skin, but so much more. He wanted Severus. He wanted to talk to him, ask him what had happened after he’d left. Had McGonagall spoken to him as well?   
   Looking around, he pushed himself up, seeing his father’s Cloak. He quietly stepped off his bed and pulled his drawer out, grabbing the Marauder’s Map. He then whispered, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” and tapped his wand against it, the map revealing every person in Hogwarts.   
   He looked outside the Gryffindor tower just to see if anyone was there. Next, he checked McGonagall’s quarters, seeing her name planted safely in her room. He was surprised she trusted him enough not to be lurking. He had the Cloak anyway, so even if he did run into her, she wouldn’t be able to see him. Maybe she didn’t expect it after her lecture.    
   Un-scrolling it further, he checked the dungeons to see Severus Snape’s name also planted in his quarters. He should have used this last night, it would have caused a lot less grief. He’d been so high on his own magic and lust that he didn’t even consider it. How stupid of him!   
   Putting the Cloak over him, he headed down the stairs in his pyjamas, padding his way down the levels until he reached the corridors and eventually the dungeons. He didn’t knock this time, and instead he pulled out his wand, whispering _Alohomora_ , the lock on the other side clicking.  
   Pushing the door in, he noticed it was dark inside the office, which only meant Snape was asleep in bed. How he could sleep, he had no idea. His own magic was tingling horribly, and he wanted nothing more than to be with Severus again.   
   Quietly closing the door behind him, he used the light from his wand to walk over to the other door inside the office, using the charm again to open the door. Inside, the fire was small and Fawkes’ feathers were dim as the bird was asleep. In the bed, Snape was asleep, a book on the nightstand and a dimming candle. He then realised why Snape was asleep: there was a potion bottle sitting there as well. Clearly he took something so he could sleep.  
   Throwing his Cloak down, he leant down to the side of the bed and lowered his wand, the candlelight and the fire enough to light the room gently. “Professor…?” he whispered, lifting a hand and touching Snape’s shoulder. The man was facing the other way, so he couldn’t see his face.   
   “Snape!” he whispered louder, Fawkes leaning up and out of his back, feathers fluffing up as he gave a curious look to Harry. “Hey, wake up.”   
  
   Feeling the nudge to his shoulder, Snape’s eyes clenched closed as he knew he was in his bed and it was still dark. It wasn’t until he heard his name being whispered again that he quickly turned over his shoulder, running a hand down his face to focus on Harry.  
   “Potter, what are you doing!? And… how the hell did you get in here!?” he asked, although already knowing. Of course Potter knew the charm to unlock doors, and his office wasn’t securely locked in case a student needed him.  
  
   “I had to see you, especially after what happened this morning,” said Harry, beaming as he leaned up, sitting on the side of the bed as Snape pushed himself up to reveal his dark grey pyjamas which looked much like a long undershirt that clung to his body (the rest Harry couldn’t see).       
  
   Severus scratched at the back of his head. “Potter, you shouldn’t be here, and I mean that quite literally this time,” he pushed. “If the Headmistress found out you were here, the both of us could be in serious trouble.” He figured Minerva would have kept a chain on Potter knowing he liked to roam around. Perhaps she didn’t care as much as she led them to believe? Or perhaps she trusted the Gryffindor too easily.  
  
   “She talked to you too, huh?” Harry mumbled in disappointment. “What are we supposed to do? I… I can’t not be around you,” he said desperately, glad it was dark as he felt a familiar wave of heat hit his cheeks. “Last night had… I want more.”  
  
   What!? No! No, that couldn’t happen! Especially not now! “Potter, no, if Professor McGonagall finds you down here, I could lose my position and you could lose your place as a student. This is your final year, you cannot throw that away for something as silly as… whatever this is.”   
  
   “You mean our relationship?” asked the Gryffindor. “What exactly did she say to you?”   
  
   “Enough to know that you cannot be here.” Snape pushed himself up and out of the bed. “I will escort you back.” He didn’t literally mean their relationship was stupid, but he was a person who could live without sex and a romantic partner. Or thought he was. It did nothing but cause trouble—example right here. Every time his feelings got the better of him, something bad had to happen.   
  
   When Snape stood, Harry looked at the professor and realised it wasn’t an undershirt but what looked like an olden day style one-piece, snuggled up tight against his body with buttons down the front. He bit his lip at the sight. Once more, his magic was going haywire and he wanted the man more than anything.   
   “Please…”   
  
   “No,” said Snape, and that was his final answer. “Now, before you get the both of us into trouble, get back to your room! Don’t make me take points from you, I haven’t done that in a while and I’ve been missing it quite so.”   
  
   Harry gave an annoyed sigh, but he understood that Snape didn’t want the both of them getting into trouble. “When can I talk to you, then? Professor McGonagall said that we can’t be seen together during school hours unless it’s class. When can we meet, then?”  
  
   “Only on weekends, I’m afraid. And I doubt she means on the grounds of Hogwarts, either,” Snape muttered. He was just as disappointed as Harry was, but he had to be professional about this matter if he wanted to stay a teacher here at Hogwarts. He should have lever let himself give in. None of this would have happened if he just stayed away.   
  
   “I don’t understand. She was the one who said we could do this… Why has she changed her mind so quickly?” He just didn’t get it!   
  
   “Because it is for the right of the students, and they must come before our personal desires,” Snape said much to his despise right now. He frowned, knowing Minerva expected him to tell her what was truly going on between him and Harry. Clearly he’d hurt her by sleeping with Harry behind her back, but to be honest, it really wasn’t any of her business! And once more, it hadn’t been planned! How did you casually tell someone that?   
   He supposed it wasn’t about asking, it was about revealing his true feelings, which he had kept rather quiet the whole time. Minerva had been pushing him and urging for him to say it, he knew that, but he didn’t think that by doing this it would feel like some kind of betrayal to her. It was a Gryffindor thing, he knew. All their pride and all of that personal crap. He wasn’t her ‘innocent’ boy now—not that he ever was, but he knew their relationship was tight, almost like family. She always had been there for him. Especially when Dumbledore hadn’t been. When Dumbledore ignored him in need and tossed him aside for the sake of Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew. He had never been Dumbledore’s favourite. He had never been _anyone’s_ favourite.    
   “Potter, I will talk to the Headmistress in the morning, but I must insist that you return to your common-room before we make things worse. If the _Prophet_ truly does print what Skeeter has assumed was shared between us, then the both of us will have a long day tomorrow.” And pretty much forever.  
  
   “Alright, I’ll go back,” Harry murmured gently, “I suppose I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” He turned, but stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, looking back up to the Potions master.  
  
   “Don’t think this means I don’t wish to spend time with you, Potter. I do,” said Snape. Leaning down, he awkwardly kissed Harry on the forehead before pulling back so Potter didn’t get any ideas. “Goodnight, Harry. I assume you can walk yourself back safely?”   
  
   Feeling his blood run cold, Harry shivered at the show of affection, though wishing it had’ve been on the lips. The forehead seemed like such a fatherly thing to do. “I can and will. Goodnight, Sev,” he murmured happily. He then made his way out of the dungeons and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
   Hearing the door close, Severus lingered the name ‘Sev’ in his head for a moment. It had been a long time since he was called that, but it was somewhat welcoming to him coming from Potter. He sighed, returning to bed and blowing out the candle on the nightstand.    
  
*****     
   Early in the morning, Severus headed up to the Headmistress’ office, dressed in his usual teaching robes. He said the password and headed up the stairs as the giant phoenix turned, and he knocked on the door before entering to see Minerva McGonagall seated behind the desk.   
  
   “What can I do for you this early, Severus?” said the elderly witch in her own emerald teaching robes and hat. Her voice was no way near as harsh as it had been the previous day and night.  
  
   Walking inside, Snape didn’t take a seat. “Headmistress, I wanted to speak to you of yesterday’s discussion. I have a feeling that you were rather hot-headed over the situation, and I was hoping that I could change your mind on Potter and I.”   
  
   “Well, I appreciate your honesty, Severus, but nothing is going to change my mind,” she stated. “If that is all, then you may as well head down for breakfast. I assume you and Potter are in for a rough day.”  
  
   This was ridiculous! Out of all the things in life, he deserved at least something good for all the shit he had taken! Lily had been the best thing in his life, and she had been stolen from him, and now he was getting a second chance with Harry and she was going to rob him of that!?   
   Leaning on the desk, he gave her a surprisingly dark look. “Headmistress, I do not question your ability and duties, I am well aware that you are more than suited for this position, but how can you possibly think that keeping Potter and I from one another is going to help either of us? You know very well how strong this magic is, and how it may affect us if ignored. Why are you punishing the both of us for something that is beyond our control?”  
  
   The woman stiffened in her seat. “Professor, I will not have you speak to me in such terms!”  
  
   Snape turned away aggressively, his robes billowing. He stood for a moment in silence. “I’m sorry…” he muttered eventually, looking over his shoulder. “I should have told you what I was feeling. You are the Headmistress of Hogwarts, and you should have been informed of what could possibly happen between Potter and I. I apologise for keeping secrets from you, but I did not intend for such events to happen.”  
  
   Looking at the back of the man, Minerva frowned. “I am sorry, Severus… I still stand by my decision.” She saw Snape’s shoulders lower and his head move slightly as he was clearly listening. “I’m afraid that until these events quiet down amongst the students, it is very unwise for you two to be seen together.”  
  
   “Yes, of course,” Snape murmured, “I understand.” He headed for the door.  
  
   “Severus… I _am_ sorry. If Rita Skeeter had not found out, then I would be more than happy for you and Potter to share your quarters as much as you wished in private, but that is not the case. I admit, I was shocked to find out the news, and I may have been hot-tempered. But this is for the sake of the students, as well as yourself and Potter.”  
   She had had the night to think over on her actions. Yes, she did overreact, but this was new to her just as much as everyone else. Usually Dumbledore would deal with these things in his own calm way. But he wasn’t here anymore, and this was now her responsibility. She had to get used to it.  
   She supported Severus and Harry. She was shocked, disappointed that they had been caught, disappointed in herself that she had allowed Skeeter to go undetected. Her own outburst was simply her own guilt and lack of control of Hogwarts. Dumbledore’s portrait had reassured her overnight, though. Even though just a portrait, he was still helpful.  
   It was her duty to protect everyone here, including Severus. He was like a son to her, and having him lie to her face so easily had hurt. Even more, he was no longer really her responsibility as a child. He’d grown up long ago. He’d done bad things. He was no innocent! But he had one virtue left in him, and it was now gone, too.   
   “You may go, Severus,” she nodded gently. “I will talk to you and Potter later.”  
  
   Snape just gave a single nod before he turned from her once more, walking out of the room and heading back down the stairs as he was dismissed. Today was going to be horrid.  
  
*****    
   Harry was quiet most of the morning at breakfast. Everything in school seemed the same besides the knowledge of what was going to be in the papers as soon as they arrived. There were a few odd looks going around, but like last night, no one was saying anything. He doubted people believed it was actually true if they heard it. Why would they? Everyone ‘knew’ he and Snape ‘hated’ one another.   
   He still hadn’t told Ron and Hermione, but that was just because he didn’t know _how_ to tell them. How do you casually bring that up in a conversation?   
   He had seen Snape at the High Table, the professor seeming very distant from McGonagall who he was sitting beside in his usual seat. Clearly things hadn’t gone well between them this morning and Severus was keeping very quiet, his head down as he hardly ate.   
   Harry turned back to his own bowl of warm porridge. He wasn’t very hungry at all considering the nerves in his stomach. He’d felt nervous before, but this was also dread, and he couldn’t help but just play with his food as a distraction to the inevitable.   
   Ron and Hermione had asked where he’d been the night he was missing, but he had been too tired from the interviews to talk. They didn’t ask again and he figured they just thought he was out at the graves again. It was nothing new, and Ron and Hermione were getting used to him not wanting to talk about certain things.  
  
   “Harry, you’re very quiet this morning,” said Hermione, having noticed that he hadn’t eaten much of his breakfast as well. She knew the interviews had been tiring for him, but he seemed very distracted and worried about something. “Are you alright?”  
  
   Harry looked up, swallowing hard. He was amazed the whispers hadn’t reached them yet. He figured people were too nervous to ask, though. He knew once the papers came that Ron and Hermione were in for a massive surprise. He wished he had told them before, but he had been too nervous and tired. But thinking about it now, he would rather it come from his lips than them believing the words of Rita Skeeter. So he just came out with it.  
   “I slept with Professor Snape…” he confessed, Ron and Hermione looking at him in surprise. He shrank into his shoulders. “It’s why I was missing the other night… I… I don’t even know how it happened, it just did.”   
  
   “Slept in his room, right? Like… not actually…?” Ron started, looking as Harry’s eyes went away. “Oh blimey, Harry!” he said, feeling his own cheeks go red. Instantly, he looked at the High Table, looking at Snape as he was gazing across the room at what appeared to be the wall. He didn’t seem happy at all!   
   “S-so… what people are whispering? I heard someone say something about Snape last night. But I thought it was just all stupid, you know? I didn’t wanna worry you about it…”  
  
   Hermione was just as shocked. “Harry, why didn’t you tell us this before!?”   
  
   “Hermione, it’s not like it’s something that comes up in every day conversation!” retorted the boy. “Besides… I was nervous and I didn’t know what you guys might think. But I thought it would be better from my mouth than reading it when the papers arrive.”   
  
   The papers? Hermione gave a questioning look to Harry. “Why would the papers matter? Why would they even _know!?”_ she asked.   
  
   “Rita Skeeter found out. It’s why people are whispering…” Harry mumbled, leaning his cheek onto his knuckles. Ron was still gawking at him, which made him feel uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything about it.   
   “McGonagall is furious over the whole thing, and… now the whole school is going to know about it.”  
  
   Hermione looked down at her hands on the table, but Ron just stared at Harry, feeling sick to the stomach. He knew that Harry and Snape were in a relationship, but now this made things serious! And… Snape!? Naked? Ew! That just seemed so wrong!  
   “Are you alright, though? He didn’t hurt you or anything? I mean… like… did it hurt? What the hell was it like!?” he asked, unable to form a comprehensive sentence. “Merlin, if that myth is true about nose sizes…”  
  
   “Ron!” Hermione hissed, horrified that he would ask something like that.  
  
   Harry just gave an embarrassed laugh, feeling very uneasy. “I didn’t expect it not to hurt, Ron, it was my first time…” he said, though feeling his cheeks burning. “And… to be honest, I didn’t really… see much. It was kind of quick and… yeah. It was really amazing, though. I’ve never felt anything like it. He was actually… really gentle. It was strange, but good.”   
   Just remembering the feeling of Snape against him was wonderful. He wanted it so much again, and he hated the fact that he and Snape couldn’t even talk to one another unless it was about school work in public. This was going to be horrible!   
  
   Ron felt a little jealous at the fact that Harry had shagged someone and he hadn’t got that far with his girlfriend yet. He was a bit shy on the topic himself when it came to Hermione, though. His guy friends it was alright, but it was a little embarrassing with Hermione.   
   The thought of Snape being gentle made him frown. He gave the professor a quick glance once more, raising a brow. “So the whole school is gunna know about this?” he asked. “I would have thought Snape would have been more cheerful about that. He looks miserable up there… I mean, it’s not every day someone gets noticed for sleeping with Harry Potter,” he smirked, despite still feeling horribly awkward about this new information. Let alone jealous.   
  
   Once more, Hermione shot the red-head a sharp look. “Ron, Snape isn’t like that! Don’t you realise what classes are going to be like for him? For the both of you!? Students are going to feed off this! It’s going to be horrible… It’s not like Snape has many friends as it is, either…” Not that she blamed Harry for giving into his desires, but they should have been more careful!   
   “We have Potions today, Harry, it’s the final class of the day. I’ll be right by your side if anyone starts saying anything horrible about it, okay? And I’m sure Ron will be, too. For the both of you. Not just you, but Professor Snape, too.”   
  
   Harry felt guilty about the whole thing now, but he didn’t regret sleeping with Snape. He couldn’t. They’d really bonded that night and he enjoyed every second of it. He knew it came with a massive backlash from the school and papers, but be damned with that! He wanted Snape!   
  
   “’Mione’s rights, Harry,” said Ron, patting his hand onto Harry’s back. “We’ll be right beside you.”   
  
   Harry nodded gently, though wincing as he heard the owls starting to come through the Great Hall with their packages. Spells wasn’t there, and he was glad, but he did want to quickly check if anything was actually in it in the _Daily Prophet._  
   When Ron’s owl dropped off the paper, the both of them scrolled it open. Of course, the front page was filled with Hogwarts and the interviews that had happened, but Harry couldn’t care less about that. Instead, he and Ron flipped through to Rita Skeeter’s _Me, Myself and I_ column. And there it was, a photo of Harry wearing Snape’s too large a dress shirt as he was coming out of the office door.   
  
   “Sorry, Harry…” Ron mumbled, reading down the column. It was horribly blown out of proportion (from what Harry said), and said things about both Harry and Snape being long lost lovers and all this other mumbo jumbo that Ron almost couldn’t stomach.   
  
   “I can’t believe this!” Hermione hissed. “She has the nerve to include that Snape was a Death Eater and how dangerous he must be for you, thus that’s the cause of the attraction. Now she’s making you out to be a complete trouble seeker! This is horrible, Harry,” she muttered, continuing to read her own paper.   
  
   “That’s not all,” said Ron, pointing to the paper, “She’s made out that it’s been going on for years in secret, and part of Dumbledore’s Army. Not to mention Snape’s… endowment…” Ron went a tomato shade of red.  
  
   “What!?” Harry almost yelled, looking to where Ron’s finger was. Oh, God… even she made a comment about the professor’s length. Harry ran his hands over his face as he felt his whole body heat up. He knew it was going to be bad, but that was exactly what students at Hogwarts would question. Just how big _are_ Professor Snape and Harry Potter? They were teenagers, of course! He shrank into his shoulders.   
   Soon enough, the Hall was starting to fill with giggles, gasps and whispers, and Harry realised that many people were looking around to one another, as well as at him and Snape. Snape had his head down as he was reading the paper on the table. McGonagall had a very unpleased facial expression as she made no contact with Severus. Hagrid’s face was beet red beneath his beard, and Harry could tell he was trying not to look at either of them.  
  
   “Potter!? Is it true!? You and Professor Snape…?” asked one of the Hufflepuff’s from across the hallway, loud enough to grab everyone’s attention.   
  
   Harry just went still, not knowing what to say. He saw Draco Malfoy pale, looking at the Head of Slytherin from his table.   
  
   “Quiet!” McGonagall’s voice echoed over the Hall. “All of you, classes are starting soon, I advise you all get ready immediately before you find yourselves in detention. Professors, that includes you.”  
   She waved her hand and the tables were cleared of any remains, much to some of the student’s disappointment. She put her hand on Severus’ shoulder to stop him from leaving his seat, and called out after Harry, the boy stopping and turning around.  
  
   “Good luck, Harry,” Ron murmured. “I’ll see you in class.”  
  
   Harry nodded nervously as everyone else left, murmurs, sneers and snickers being heard as he pushed his way through the students. He walked his way up to the High Table, his eyes lowering. “Yes, Professor?”   
  
   Letting her hand off Severus’ shoulder, Snape kept his eyes off the Gryffindor, his hands in his lap.   
  
   “You two are not to be seen together unless in a professional manner, is that understood?” said the witch. Her voice wasn’t nearly as sharp as it had been yesterday.  
  
   “You can’t do this!” Harry yelled, feeling himself getting upset and angry once more.   
  
   McGonagall gave a scowling look to the boy. “Potter, unless you want to be expelled from Hogwarts, I insist that you calm yourself, listen to me and let me finish.”   
  
   Harry frowned, though shutting his mouth. Gryffindor was already losing this year’s Cup from the start of the year. Slytherin was way up in the lead. He didn’t need more points taken no thanks to his behaviour before with Snape.     
  
   “Now, for the time being, you two are going to have a rather difficult time during classes. This is for the both of you. You will not be seen in public displaying any kind of affection until the students have calmed down. Once they have gotten over this, then you may act… the way you wish—in reasonable profession.” Not that she could ever truly see Severus showing public displays of affection.   
  
   Severus looked up, his brow furrowing. “Headmistress…?” He thought she was completely against their relationship now! What was with the turn around _this_ time?    
  
   The Headmistress gave a gentle sigh. “I am well aware of the magic that is being shared between you, and it is quite stupid to think that it would be easy for you two to stay away from one another. For the school and your positions, though, please do not make things any worse than they already are. The both of you are going to have a horrid few weeks ahead of you until this dies down and nobody cares for it. Potter, you must refrain from getting into any fights, and Severus, no unfair point taking.”   
  
   Snape disregarded of points comment. “You don’t expect that to honestly happen, Headmistress,” he said, “Potter is famous. Once others get a hand on this article, they will be asking for more information. From the both of us.” Unfortunately, he was just as much as famous as Potter was right now. He really should have thought more about this before he decided to think with his snake.  
  
   “And they will not be granted it,” Minerva snapped. “Hogwarts is a boarding school, and as long as you two are on the safety of its grounds, then there will be no publicity of it until Potter finishes school or goes on holiday. And I find it highly unwise that you should leave the castle over Christmas, Potter, unless you wish for that to happen.”  
  
   It wasn’t the first time he’d stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas, but Harry frowned, wondering if Ron and Hermione would stay back with him. He didn’t exactly wish to stay here by himself.   
  
   “Now, I will give you two a moment before class. Be quick,” the witch made clear before turning her back, her green robes tailing after her.   
  
   Harry looked at Snape as he was still sitting down at the now empty table. “I’m sorry, Professor… I know today is going to be horrible for the both of us.”   
  
   Snape just rolled his eyes, standing up. “Stop apologising, Potter, it wasn’t like I made you walk away that night.” He had wanted it just as much as Harry had. How were they supposed to know that Rita Skeeter was going to be stalking them in her Animagus form? He would have thought with her on the grounds, there would have been more security. Then again, Hogwarts always had nooks and crannies where people seemed to find their way in.  
   He walked around the back of the table and stepped down the few stairs that separated the students from the teachers. “The Headmistress is correct. The both of us will be the talk of the school for quite some time, and she is right in making us stay away from one another in public, no matter how difficult that may be.”   
  
   “Do you care that people know?” Harry asked, knowing Snape wasn’t one to be very public about… well… anything, unless it was his hatred for something.   
  
   “I don’t think that matters,” Snape said, his hands going by his side. “I don’t see much point in hiding the truth, Potter, not when it’s all over the tabloids and school. I don’t see why anyone should even be thinking of it. It’s not any of their concern.” Unfortunately, he was dealing with a bunch of teenagers who had nothing else on their minds.   
  
   “So if people ask… what do you want me to say?” asked the boy.   
  
   He was asking him that!? Severus frowned lightly. “Potter, you can tell them whatever the hell you wish. I don’t care. They are children, they will use their imaginations ‘til their demise. I cannot stop them from thinking fact from fiction.”  
  
   Right. Harry nodded. “Alright,” he said, smiling lightly. “W-what will you tell the teachers? I mean, surely they’ll be asking questions as well, right? In the staff room and all…”  
  
   Snape scoffed. “Potter, I’m not the most popular amongst the professor’s here, they know very well to leave me to my solitude unless they wish to be hexed.” He gave an amused facial at that, and Harry smiled. “Now, go to class before Professor McGonagall returns. Once the students have had their fun, then we can discuss us.”  
  
   “I’ll see you in class, Professor,” Harry nodded, looking up and wishing he could kiss the man. Snape must have sensed his magic because he swiftly turned on his heal and headed to the back of the Great Hall and out the other door. Harry just sighed, heading back to his common-room to grab his things for his first lesson.  
  
*****     
   Once Harry had stepped out of the Great Hall, all eyes were immediately on him, and he’d wished he could just go back inside and hide forever. Ron and Hermione had been true to their word, though, and they’d stuck up for him when people had said nasty comments or asked if the rumours were true.  
   Of course, as soon as he’d gone into the common-room to grab his things for his first lesson, all of the Gryffindors were calling him a traitor for being with a Slytherin, and a lot of the younger Gryffindor’s were just trying to hide their embarrassment that someone had slept with a teacher at Hogwarts. Hell, they were very young, so they shouldn’t even be _thinking_ about that kind of stuff!  
   Harry just quickly grabbed his stuff and headed out of there as soon as he could. Of course, classes had been just the same. Snickers and whispers were being heard, but most of the professors there were trying to keep the whole thing quiet.   
   Harry had only seen Snape once during the day, and he looked very agitated. He could only imagine what his classes had consisted of. Snape may be a strict teacher and rough on his students, but even he was getting badgered by the students.   
   And then there was his final class. Potions. Shared with Slytherin, of all other Houses. Harry sat quietly beside Ron who was next to Hermione. Snape wasn’t here yet, which made the students even more rowdy, and Malfoy was giving him a rather dirty look that he didn’t quite like. Surprisingly, the Slytherin’s had been the least of his worries today. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and his own House had been much more talkative over the whole thing.   
  
   “It’s alright, Harry, I’m sure Snape will keep their mouths shut. After all, he’s their Head of House,” said Ron, giving a light shrug.   
  
   “I don’t know,” Hermione said worriedly, “Snape was looking awfully rough when I saw him before. But you are right… Slytherin is a tight brotherhood, and despite what everyone does think of them, they stick together.” All three of them knew that from experience. Despite Slytherin’s bad reputation, they did look out for one another and had a tight bond.   
  
   “Yeah, but he’s angry all the time,” Ron muttered, “Well, unless Harry’s snogging him, of course.”  
  
   Harry elbowed his friend roughly as his cheeks warmed, Ron just laughing. At least when his friends did it, it made him feel more comfortable. He knew Ron wasn’t picking on him like the others were, and it gave him a sense of reassurance coming from Ron.   
  
   “No, I don’t mean the usual him,” Hermione stated, “I mean he looked bad… Like… very stressed out. I don’t think he’s used to this kind of attention. We all know he’s snappy as it is, I can only imagine what classes were like today. I saw Gryffindor has lost a lot of points.” She sighed at the loss. They were not winning this year.  
  
   Instantly, Harry looked at his friend, worry crawling over his face. “Do you know if he’s okay?” At that moment, the door to the dungeons opened and McGonagall stepped inside, Harry’s eyes narrowing a little as she walked to the front of the class. Why was she here? Where was Snape?  
  
   “Attention please,” she said, everyone instantly falling silent. Like Snape, she had a way of making the class absolutely silent without much effort. “I will be teaching this lesson today, so please get your books out.”   
  
   Harry raised his hand. “Professor, why isn’t Professor Snape here?”   
  
   “Probably too ashamed to come to class,” said one of the students.  
  
   McGonagall hushed the room. “Professor Snape is unfit to teach this evening.”  
  
   “What’d you give him, Potter? Gryffindor germs?” This time it was a Slytherin.    
  
   Harry grew angry as the class started snickering amongst one another. McGonagall hushed them once more, though, and took five points off Slytherin for saying such a thing. Harry, on the other hand, was very angry and worried at the same time. A very bad combination of magic.   
  
   “I’m sure he’s alright, Harry, he’s probably just stressed out,” Hermione reassured, getting her books out.   
  
   When the rest of the students got their things out, McGonagall approached the table with Ron, Hermione and Harry sitting down. “Potter, I think you should come with me,” she said, Harry giving her a concerned look.   
  
   Harry stood up, eyeing his friends nervously. They didn’t say anything, and he followed McGonagall out of the classroom as she told the students that Hermione was in charge while she was gone.  
   “Professor, what’s wrong? Did I do something…? Is this about Professor Snape?” he asked, “I haven’t spoken to him all day since this morning, I swear!”  
  
   “It’s not that, Potter,” said McGonagall.  
  
   Harry stopped as he realised they were heading to the hospital wing. “What’s wrong?”  
  
   “I think you should see for yourself,” said McGonagall, leading the boy into the hospital wing.   
  
   Harry looked at the only occupied bed in the room, Severus Snape lying down motionless with a bandage wrapped around his left arm. Harry instantly ran to the side of the bed. “Professor!?” he asked, his heart thumping in his head. “Severus!?” Oh, God, what the hell had happened!?


	23. Like Your Mother.

Chapter Twenty Three:  Like Your Mother  
  
   At hearing the worried voice, Severus’ eyes opened lazily as he looked to the Gryffindor’s watery green eyes, filled with worry. “Potter, you’re screaming in my ear… I’d rather you didn’t. I have a splitting headache,” he muttered softly.   
  
   Harry felt his chest lighten as Snape was awake. He thought he was passed out of something. He looked at the bandage on the man’s left arm, dressed in something more comfortable for him to be lying down in. It looked like he’d be spending the night here again.   
   “Professor, what happened?” he asked, leaning on the railing as Snape’s arm was laid out away from his body. He could see there was blood on the bandage, and he could see the whole Dark Mark had been covered with it.    
  
   McGonagall moved up beside Harry, putting her hand onto his shoulder and looking down at Severus. He looked tired and she felt guilty for having kept Potter from him. But she had her duties. The least she could do, though, and the right thing to do (Gryffindor or not) was to allow Harry to know what had happened and give them some personal time. Severus needed it and she was sure Harry wanted it, too.   
   “As you may have read in the _Prophet_ , Rita Skeeter made it prominent that Severus had been a former Death Eater and supporter of Voldemort. One of the students… attacked him,” she revealed. “It was quite awful.”   
  
   Harry’s chest flared in anger and fear as he looked back to Snape. A student!? Attacking him? Surely the person was going to be expelled for this, right!? Severus Snape wasn’t a Death Eater, no matter what the mark on his arm said!  
  
   “You didn’t expect that to just fly over their heads, did you, Potter? You’re such a bloody Gryffindor,” Snape murmured, giving a pained smirk.  
  
   Harry smiled gently, though angry that anyone could do this. “Why didn’t you stand up for yourself?” he asked. Snape had been so forceful about Harry doing it, so why couldn’t he?  
  
   Snape frowned. “Potter, I’m a professor here. It’s my duty to take care of the students… not to hex them. Even in self-defence…” he said, breathing gently. Besides, the attack was not something he foresaw happening. It had happened so abruptly. Didn’t mean he wasn’t displeased with the whole thing. In fact, he was furious! Good thing the potions in his system were making him much more calm.     
    
   Harry’s eyes lowered a little. “What exactly happened? Who did this? Are they being punished!?” he asked, looking back to McGonagall.   
  
   The Headmistress patted Potter on the shoulder once more. “There are severe consequences to anyone who attacks another student or teacher here, Potter, I assure you. They are being dealt with. And I would prefer if you did not know the name of the student. I don’t wish for you to go looking for trouble.”  
  
   Harry’s jaw went tight at the thought of not knowing who did this. It was unfair! But he could understand McGonagall’s actions. He was pretty angry and upset right now, he’d throw curses at anyone who badmouthed Snape.   
   “Can I stay for a while…?” he asked hopefully, looking at the Headmistress, “I know you don’t want us being seen together, but… please. I’d really like to stay.”   
  
   McGonagall was hesitant, but she nodded gently. “Only because you are in the privacy of the hospital wing, alright? Severus, you will be spending the night here, but Potter, I will see to it that you will be in your own bed. I will make a clear announcement on hostile actions on the grounds. The students will know the full consequences.”   
  
   Harry went a little red at the mention of staying in his own bed. But he already had plans of sneaking down in the middle of the night to check up on the Potions master. There was no way he was going to let him stay in the hospital wing by himself all night.   
   “Yes, Professor,” he nodded, looking back down at Snape. He pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed, putting his hands onto the side of the mattress. “Does it hurt? What exactly happened? You’re going to get better, right?”   
  
   Grimacing, Snape looked at the boy tiredly. “My arm will be fine, Potter, it’s just been cut badly with a dangerous spell. Nothing Madam Pomfrey can’t heal in time.” His arm was aching horribly from the Dark Mark, though, but it was hardly worth worrying over. It wasn’t a St. Mungo’s wound.  
  
   “H-how bad is it?” asked Harry, placing his fingers onto Snape’s hand.   
  
   Snape looked down at the smaller hand, swallowing gently. He could feel Harry’s magic creeping up through the connection and moved awkwardly beneath the covers. “As I said before, it will heal. The curse is slow acting, but the little swine didn’t manage to remove it.” That was impossible.   
  
   The person who did this was attempting to remove the Dark Mark? “But you can’t remove it, can you?”  
  
   Severus gave the Gryffindor a tired but blank look. “Potter, do you honestly think I would be walking around with this accursed mark on my arm if there was a way of ridding it? No, it is a curse I will bear for the rest of my life,” he muttered. “Unless I wished to remove my arm completely… I assure you, I would prefer not to.”   
  
   Looking down at the bandaged arm, Harry let his fingers grip the palm of the Slytherin. “I’m sorry you have to spend the night here again.”   
  
   It was nothing new. Severus just turned away, placing his other hand onto his chest. When Harry’s hand touched his injured one, the pain seemed to melt away, but maybe it was simply because he was tired. He’d be doped up on potions all night because of this.   
   “Potter, I’m quite used to spending nights in here. There is no need for you to apologise. I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier now that my past loyalties have been revealed.”   
  
   Harry looked down, but was surprised when he felt a hand go to his cheek. His eyes looked down at the injured man, his bandaged arm up.   
  
   “Stop feeling so guilty,” the Slytherin ordered. “I got to see you, didn’t I?”   
  
   “You would have seen me in class,” Harry noted, though feeling his cheeks warm. He could tell Snape was on pain medication, because he would never let affection like this slip so easily. He was clearly out of his mind.  
  
   “Potter, if I even looked at you the students would all be snickering and whispering. I’d rather get to spend time with you in private than with those idiots.”   
  
   Harry couldn’t help but laugh, still burning a light shade of red as Severus looked way too comfortable—despite the pain. “Why on earth did you become a teacher if you hate us so much?”  
  
   “I don’t hate all of you, Potter, just the dunderheads,” Snape muttered, lowering his hand and looking away once more. “I went to Dumbledore, as you would have seen in my memories. He took me in with McGonagall. He granted me security and a promise that he could not keep in exchange for my undying loyalty. He gave me protection and a purpose. I may have been a young professor, and others detested my presence, but the Headmaster looked after me. As did McGonagall. They almost grew like proper parents on me…” he murmured, his eyes gazing away as he faced away from Harry.   
  
   The Gryffindor looked down for a moment, realising now why McGonagall had been so hot-headed over the whole situation. “It’s why she was upset, isn’t it?” he asked, trying to put the pieces together. “You’re… like a son to her?”   
  
   Severus slowly looked back at Harry, looking into his green eyes. “I’m getting tired, Potter, I think I should get some rest. The Dark Mark is going to cause me to be in a lot of pain tonight, and you should return to class if you wish to pass Potions. I’ll have you know that I will not be favouring you. You’re still a Gryffindor.”   
  
   Harry just grinned. “I will come to see you tonight, and you can’t stop me. I know what McGonagall said, but I don’t care. I want to check on you.”  
  
   There was no point in arguing. Even if he told Harry not to come, he still would—it was what Gryffindors did. Trouble makers.    
  
*****    
   Harry missed most of the Potions class, but McGonagall had told him what his homework was when he’d returned. Immediately, Ron and Hermione had asked what had happened, and he’d explained that Snape was in the hospital wing.   
   He still didn’t know who had attacked Snape, and not even Snape would tell him—he supposed he was ‘protecting’ the dickhead who had tried to slice half of his arm off, but even so… Harry hated not knowing who had done this. He figured Snape would be more than willing to give up the rat. Especially if they were from another house. Then again, maybe they were from Slytherin? But who would do that to their own?  
   People were still whispering and spreading horrible rumours, but to be honest, he was glad Snape wasn’t able to hear it by being in the hospital wing. He supposed some of the teachers would come in and see him and most likely make comments, but if they knew what was good for them, they’d keep their mouths shut around Severus Snape. A student he may protect as it was a duty, but he could easily fire back at another professor. Although with potions stuffed into his system, he was a lot easier to talk to.  
   Harry made sure that McGonagall had seen him go to bed before he lay awake for a while until he knew everyone else in the room was sleeping. Immediately, he leant up, put his glasses back on and grabbed his map, opening it to see if everyone was safely in their beds. McGonagall was his target right now, and seeing that she was in her office meant she was far away from the hospital wing.  
   Checking the wing, he saw Snape’s name written on the parchment, as well as Poppy Pomfrey’s. She was moving about, but she was in the other room, which meant she was probably going to bed. He took his map with him just in case, shoving it into his pants pocket before hiding under his father’s Cloak.   
   Making his way down, he was as quiet as could be, his wand lighting the way when the corridors became too dark. Finally, he was in the vicinity of the hospital wing when he heard a pained noise come from inside. Clearly the medication that Pomfrey had given Snape wasn’t working, because it sounded like he was in severe pain.  
   Making sure Madam Pomfrey’s door was closed, he padded his way into the room, seeing Severus sitting up, his hand grabbing his bandaged arm by the wrist. He pulled his Cloak down and approached the professor, saying his name.  
  
   Startled, Snape groaned, both from pain and the fact that Potter had made him jump. “Potter, you scared the shit out of me,” he mumbled, clearly still doped on potions.  
  
   Harry was surprised to hear the swear come from Severus. “I didn’t know you swore…” he said with a light grin. Severus Snape was human after all.   
  
   Laying back, Snape tried to ignore the horrid ache in his arm. “Nn… I don’t tend to make a habit of it in front of students, but I’ve been known to have a rather foul mouth in my days,” he said through clenched teeth, trying to be as quiet as possible so Poppy wouldn’t come out.  
   He looked at Harry, surprised he had even come down here. He knew he’d said he was going to, but Snape figured the boy would just fall asleep—and he wasn’t going to hold that against him. He needed his rest.   
   “If you are going to stay here, you must be quiet,” he informed the Gryffindor. “Draw the curtain, would you? Just in case Poppy comes out to check on me. She’s quite fussy with her patients, as you know.”   
  
   Harry did as Snape asked before taking a seat on the side of the bed, his Cloak close. “When will the pain stop?” he asked, looking down at the bandaged arm.  
  
   “The student happened to slice most of the Mark, Potter,” Snape said, running his normal hand through his hair. Merlin, it hurt! The Dark Mark did not like being removed. And although dead, it was still cursed flesh.   
   “The Mark does not react positively to removal.” He’d learnt that the hard way before.   
  
   As Snape leant back into his pillows, Harry wished there was something he could do to take the pain away. He put his hand onto Snape’s arm. “Do you need anything?”  
  
   As Harry’s hand went against his arm, Severus looked at it, feeling the gentle touch to the bandage. It must have been the boy’s magic, but when he touched him, the pain completely disappeared and was replaced with soothing warmth—which was more than what the potions were doing for him.   
   Looking back up, he saw those compassionate green eyes on him, and he felt a sudden surge of heat flow through him, their magic connecting once more. “No…” he finally said. Damnit, why did he have to be wearing tight pants, it was horribly uncomfortable for an erection he wasn’t expecting. Damn his lack of control right now.   
  
   Harry’s lips parted as he watched the man, his fingers running up Snape’s arm. “M-maybe there’s something I could to do take the pain way?” he asked, his cheeks flushing in the candlelight that was making the room subtly glow. God, Severus looked wonderful with the candlelight against his pale skin.   
  
   Swallowing hard, Snape could feel the familiar sensation of their magic urging them together. He thought it may have stopped when they’d had intercourse, but apparently not. Was this going to be a long-term thing? Or was it just because they were still needy for one another? They’d had a taste and wanted more?   
   When Harry’s hand left his arm, the pain of the Dark Mark kicked back in instantly, making his body cringle in pain. “Nn, put it back!” he hissed, Harry immediately taking his arm into his hand. The pain disappeared once more and Snape released a shaken breath. “Merlin, this is going to be a long night.”  
  
   “I can sleep here, under the Cloak, at least to keep the pain away,” Harry suggested, knowing how painful it had been for him when his bones were growing back with the Skele-Gro Pomfrey gave him. He wondered if it was the same kind of pain. He didn’t expect the Mark not to ache considering Voldemort had made them permanent. Like Snape said, it was reacting negatively because it was seen as an attempted removal. Even with Voldemort gone, Snape still had to endure the curse.   
   Harry moved over Snape, sitting on his lap and straddling him awkwardly as it was a single bed. The both of them couldn’t lay on it beside one another, and Snape’s arm shouldn’t be pressed underneath him, so he thought he’d just hold his hand onto Severus’ arm by lying on top of him.  
  
   “Potter, what are you doing…?” Snape asked, though thankful that his arm had calmed down. Feeling the boy’s body press warmly into his crotch, he instantly froze, trying to hide the fact that his erection was now growing harder. He looked away, attempting to calm his thoughts. It was hard to think straight with all the potions fucking up his clarity.   
  
   Looking down, Harry felt himself blush. “Um… I’m sorry, I was just trying to lay down so I could hold your arm and make the pain go away and…”  
  
   “Stop moving! You’re making it worse!” hissed the Slytherin. Harry instantly became still in his lap at the noise of the door opening a few metres away to Madam Pomfrey’s office. “The Cloak! Now!”   
  
   Harry instantly wrapped the Cloak around him and tried to lay flat against Snape’s body. He had no time to hide anywhere else. Under the bed would have been great, but the curtain was drawn too quickly and Madam Pomfrey was there with a goblet in her hands. Harry tried horribly not to move or breathe.  
  
   “I heard you making noises out here, is everything alright?” the medi-witch asked. She put the goblet down onto the side-table.  
  
   Trying not to move, Severus just made a tired noise. “Besides the feeling of Hell burning my arm, I am perfectly fine,” he muttered sarcastically. “Is there nothing you can do for the pain?”  
  
   “I’m sorry, Severus, the Dark Mark is magic I am not in control of. I’m afraid even St. Mungo’s wouldn’t be able to do anything. You’re just going to have to wait it out, I’m afraid,” Poppy said. “I’ve put a goblet of water here for you if you need it, and if you need anything else, you know where to find me. I’m going to head to bed for the night. I will check on you in the morning. Try not to make too much noise,” she fussed.   
  
   When the witch drew the curtain and headed back to her office, Harry felt Snape’s body relax into the bed. He popped his head out from beneath the Cloak and looked nervously at Snape who was giving him a very dark look.  
  
   “You have got to be more careful!” Snape whispered harshly as Harry pulled the Cloak back, his hand still on his arm. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer you to remove yourself from me.”   
  
   “Are you sure about that?” Harry asked, looking back down to where he was sitting. Snape didn’t give him a pleased look. In fact, something seemed to be haunting the man’s eyes. “Professor…?”  
  
   “Potter, we can’t do this. Not again.”  
  
   Harry gave a confused look. “I thought you liked it…”   
  
   Of course he liked it, but that wasn’t the point. While he was here all night it had got him thinking—something that the silence and boredom did (and clearly the potions). The night back at Gordric’s Hollow when he’d found Lily dead. He had loved her, and she was the first thing on his mind. He had easily stepped over James Potter’s dead body and ignored Harry while he cried in his cot.   
   There were things he had thought that night. Cruel things. Like leaving Harry to die. Like taking Lily’s body away from them. Harry needed to know that he was not a good person. In fact, he wasn’t good at all. He’d made terrible decisions in his life. Many that he regretted. But just because he regretted them did not make him a good person.   
   “Harry, the night I found your mother’s body… I blamed you. I blamed your father for your existence. I blamed James for killing Lily, for if you had never been born… she never would have died…” he said, feeling Harry’s hand leave his and the pain instantly coming back. He winced, but he did not ask for the hand to return.   
   “I am not a good person. I do not know how our magic bonded, I never would have thought it were possible. Over the years, I have disliked you immensely because I was reminded of your father, or the woman I loved being taken away from me by his arrogant charm. Something that I could never understand.”   
  
   Looking at the man, Harry felt himself move off Snape’s body, the Slytherin pushing himself up the bed a little. “I know how you saw me… I know how you saw my father. But why are you telling me this now?”  
  
   “Because you need to know!” Snape whispered harshly, despite the fact that if he were healthy right now he doubted he’d be saying any of this. “Because this person you are seeing from our magic is not real! It’s a haze that is blinding you from my true persona! I am not the wizard you think I am, or you think you see me to be.”   
  
   Harry knew very well what Snape had done in his past. He’d loved his mother almost obsessively, and he wasn’t blind to that knowledge. He understood that it may be strange and awkward to like someone younger than him, but wizarding rules were different, and Snape wasn’t even that old! He was only thirty-eight. The gap wasn’t even that bad!  
   “I’ve seen your memories… I know who you are. I’ve seen the bad things you’ve done. I know you became a Death Eater. I know you’ve seen horrible things and done nothing about it. I know you’re not perfect, but neither is anyone else.”   
  
   “Potter, I am no match for you,” said Severus. “I loved your mother, but I cannot love you like I did her. You are a constant reminder of my selfish actions. That I was so selfish to try and protect her and not you. I cannot face that when I look at you, knowing what I have done. Your mother would be ashamed in the both of us for what we are doing.”  
   He gripped his arm as he felt the pain shoot through his skin. He liked Harry, and maybe even loved him in a way, but he could not die knowing that he had defiled Lily’s son in a moment of loneliness and weakness.   
  
   “So… what?” Harry asked, standing up. “You’re going to break this up because you feel guilty about something you did years ago?” They’d already been through this! Harry knew what Snape had done. He knew he wasn’t nice back then, but this was now! Snape had been nothing but polite to him, and he had been making an effort. Of course he’d noticed that! He wasn’t blind!   
  
   “Don’t you feel disgusted at all that I could have dated your mother!? That I could be… a… a father to you?” Snape asked, giving the Gryffindor an odd look. “Potter, don’t you see how this may look on an outsider’s point of view? Once people think we are together, they are going to assume I simply took you because I loved Lily. It is no secret that I had feelings for her now.”   
  
   “Who cares what the public thinks!?” Harry almost yelled, though trying to keep his voice down as much as possible. “What matters is what you and I think, and I don’t think anything about it. Yeah, I know you liked my mum, but what does that have to do with _our_ relationship? You wouldn’t have slept with me if you didn’t like me back! You may be a Slytherin, but you almost died like a Gryffindor! Stop trying to push me away and make out that you’re such a bad guy!”  
  
   Severus just looked at the young man that stood next to his bed. Why did Harry always try and make out this his actions were so heroic when they hadn’t been? So he watched over Potter when he was here, but he wouldn’t have if it weren’t for his feelings for Lily. If it weren’t for the death of her, then the Dark Lord would have won! And he would have been standing by his side.   
   Sure, he wasn’t a full believer. He knew not all Muggles were bad, and his views had been warped because of his stupid father, but that meant nothing! He became a Death Eater because he was interested in the Dark Arts, because he felt he finally belonged somewhere. He never would have left if it weren’t for Lily.   
   “Potter…”  
  
   “No!” Harry said boldly, “I won’t have you doing this to yourself all the time. And I won’t have you thinking you’re not worth it! You may have been cruel to me in school here, but you were honest with me! You didn’t favour me like everyone else did! And even though you didn’t like me, you _still_ protected me. You _still_ looked after me! You didn’t have to, like you said, but you did. Even if it was because you felt bad over my mother’s death. Voldemort is gone, and we’re still here, together. That has to stand for something, doesn’t it?”   
  
   Feeling Harry’s hand go back onto his arm, the boy moved himself back into his lap, but this time Severus didn’t push him away, nor did he react sexually. He just sat there, allowing Harry to lay against his chest.  
  
   “I like you, Severus,” Harry murmured softly, feeling the man’s heartbeat against his neck. It was steady as he ran his hand down Severus’ arm. “I like you a lot. Why is that such a bad thing for you to accept?”   
  
   Severus felt his eyes close as he gently breathed, giving into the Gryffindor. Of course he liked Harry. He liked him a lot as well, but he just didn’t want Harry to end up hating him in the end. He’d had his heart broken once; he couldn’t stand the thought of that happening again. He did not trust easily, let alone open up to anyone.   
   Lifting his uninjured arm, he placed it gently onto Harry’s back, moving it up to his hair. Harry was so much like his mother, how could he have ever thought he was anything like James? He was loving, caring. Of course he still had a troublesome streak to him, but Lily had, too. She hadn’t always been Miss Perfect. No, she was quite capable of taking care of herself.  
   “Potter, why must you have such a good heart?” he asked, Harry’s eyes looking at him. “I don’t deserve you. I didn’t deserve Lily, either. All this time, I thought life was unfair, but I was the one who had made the wrong choices.” Well, despite James Potter being a little dick.  
  
   Moving up, Harry put a finger to Snape’s soft lips. “I think you deserve more than you think,” he whispered, replacing his finger with his lips and kissing the man beneath him. He felt his own member harden as Snape kissed him back, his hand making sure to stay on Severus’ wounded arm.   
   With his free hand, he slowly smoothed over the man’s hospital pyjamas, running down his side, his hip and finally beneath the covers to knead at the stiff erection beneath the cotton.  
  
   Severus leant his neck back as he felt the head of his erection being massaged through his clothes, Harry’s lips going to his neck. But he had to stop him, even if he wanted it more than anything right now.   
   “Potter, you must stop, Poppy could come out any moment, and you don’t wish for her to see us like this, do you? I think our relationship has been seen publically enough, don’t you?”   
  
   Pulling out of Snape’s neck, Harry bit his lip in want, but the thought of Madam Pomfrey finding them in such a situation wasn’t one he wanted to be in.   
   Leaning his head down against the man’s chest, he sighed gently, his hand leaving the warm bulge hesitantly and taking in the gentle music of Severus’ heartbeat once more.   
   “Severus?” he asked gently, feeling the bed move a little as the Potions master moved his head.  
  
   “Yes?”   
  
   “What was my mother like?” he asked. He knew it might be awkward for Snape to answer, but he wanted to know what she was like. He’d seen his father in Snape’s memories quite a bit, and he hadn’t liked it once—seeing James harassing Snape and cursing him all the time. But his mother was friends with Severus… How could she possibly have liked James in the end? Sirius has said he’d matured, but somehow Harry couldn’t imagine it. Not the way he had acted in Snape’s memories. Always messing up his hair, carrying a Snitch with him… Showing off in public.   
  
   Looking away from Harry, Snape put his hand back onto the Gryffindor’s back. “Potter, I don’t think I am the right person to ask such a personal question.”  
  
   Harry looked back up. “I know you loved her, and maybe even still do, but I don’t mind…” he said with a gentle smile. He didn’t even think the possibility of Snape only liking him because he had his mother’s eyes or something like that. Snape wasn’t like that. He knew he’d come to have feelings for him. And was it such a bad thing if it was because he reminded him of Lily? Harry didn’t see that as an insult. If anything, he felt proud to be like his mother. Everything he had heard and seen about her was wonderful.  
  
   “If you must know, your mother was quite a lot like you are now,” Snape admitted, feeling Harry smile against him with a gentle laugh through his nose. “She had her moments of being rather bossy, I must admit. She enjoyed embarrassing me,” he said, smiling a little. “But she saw the good in everyone. As do you. Even when I showed an interest in the Dark Arts, she continued her friendship with me. It wasn’t until…”  
  
   “I know,” said Harry, having seen when Snape had called her a Mudblood out of humiliation.   
  
   “I made a lot of wrong choices, Harry, one was calling your mother such a filthy word,” Snape muttered in disgust. “But you have proven to me that one day I will be able to ask for forgiveness, and she will grant it. Until then…”  
  
   Harry leant up, looking at Snape. “Do you still love her?”  
  
   “Harry, you must understand that part of me always will,” Severus confessed. Certainly because of his guilt. “But in no way does that mean that my feelings for you are not genuine. I assure you, they are. I do not see you as some kind of replacement for the Lily that I never had. You may have your mother’s eyes and heart, but you are James Potter in visage.”  
  
   Harry felt himself flush a little. He felt guilty that he was getting all of this out of Snape because he was unable to hide it from the potions in his body, but it was things he needed to know.   
   “I thought you would have hated that… me looking like my father.”  
  
   “I never said James wasn’t an attractive arse of a man,” Snape muttered. “Yes, I loathed your father, and I still do—I always will—but that in no way reflects his appearance. I may have disliked you because of it, but I was blind to who you were inside due to my hatred.”   
  
   Harry once more felt a little embarrassed by Snape using a curse word, but he enjoyed it. It made him realise that Snape was no longer viewing him as just a student, and he was acting much more like himself around him than a professor. Well, more a let-loose Snape. He had a feeling tomorrow Severus would regret having said all of this if he remembered.   
   “Have you… always liked men?” he asked rather nervously as he played with the collar on Snape’s pyjama shirt. He could see Nagini’s bite marks as the man didn’t have a cravat to hide his skin.   
  
   Snape looked at the boy curiously for a moment, his hand still on Harry’s back. “I’ve had little time to think on such things, to be perfectly honest,” he stated. “If this is something Muggle, I must inform you that I disregarded most Muggle customs when I found out I was a wizard. Unless I’m mistaken… Lily was a witch, was she not?”   
  
   Well, obviously if she gave birth. Once more, Harry gave a light smile at the thought of seeing a young Severus opening his Hogwarts letter. Coming from the Dursleys, he knew very well the exciting feeling of getting his letter to Hogwarts. And what a surprise it had been.   
   “Well… it’s not really smiled upon in the Muggle world, that’s all. Although, if you were only eleven at the time, I suppose you wouldn’t have known too much about that. Two men being in a relationship isn’t exactly noticed as something good. You can’t even get married…”  
  
   Snape’s brow furrowed at the mention of marriage. “Potter, please don’t tell me you’re already thinking about marriage?”  
  
   “No, of course not!” Harry said embarrassedly. “Can… wizards even get married?”  
  
   “Of course they can,” said the Slytherin with a scoff. “It is not recognised in the Muggle world, though. I suppose that is because of their customs, as you mentioned just a moment ago.” That did make him think of something, though. What exactly would their relationship be like in public? Muggles lived shorter than wizards did, so their age gap would be frowned upon. People would probably think he was Potter’s father…   
   He couldn’t help but smirk, keeping back a soft chortle. “Potter, I think I’d much enjoy the look on your Aunt Petunia’s face at finding out I am in a relationship with you.”  
  
   “What?” Harry’s eyes widened as he pushed his glasses up. “Why?”   
  
   “To make her uncomfortable, of course. Why else? She deserves it after making your mother so miserable for her talents. I never said I was kind, Potter, you should know this by now. If not, I don’t think this relationship will work at all.”   
  
   Harry’s brows furrowed for a moment as he watched the Slytherin carefully. “She’s not too bad, you know… It’s my Uncle Vernon that’s made her worse. And Dudley… well… he’s not so bad anymore. I think I’d actually like to see him again now that he doesn’t beat me up on the playground.”   
  
   Snape frowned. “Your cousin abused you?” he asked. “Your aunt and uncle did nothing to prevent this?”  
  
   Harry just shrugged casually, as if it were nothing. He’d grown up with it all his life that he was rather used to being harassed. It’s why Malfoy hardly bothered him when he started attacking him at Hogwarts. Although Harry had to admit, he’d grown quite a big backbone now compared to when he was eleven.   
  
   Severus found himself getting angry at the thought of that. He knew Petunia was a rotten woman, but treating Harry like scum simply because he was a wizard?   
   “I knew Albus was putting you in the wrong hands when you were just an infant, but allowing such things to happen to you? They at least told you of your gifts, correct?”  
  
   Did Snape know nothing of his life before Hogwarts? Harry frowned a little, shaking his head. “I… I never knew I was a wizard until Hagrid told me. I always thought I was just a normal boy. I mean, I knew some funny things happened, and I could talk to snakes, but… I didn’t really think anything of it.”  
  
   Merlin, no wonder Harry was such a failure in school the first year! He didn’t even know he was a bloody wizard! Snape lowered his hand from Harry’s back. He had made no attempt to learn of Harry when he was taken to the Dusrleys after Lily’s death. He didn’t want to. He wanted nothing to do with the boy until he had to. The wounds were too fresh in his mind, and he hardly wanted to look after or watch Potter when he reminded him so much of Lily’s death and James Potter.  
   “I did not know…” he murmured. He had the sudden urge to Floo or fly to Surrey and punch Vernon in the face. Or toss a few curses in the Dusrleys direction for treating Harry so disrespectfully just because he was a wizard—not that he could use magic in front of Muggles, but a punch would satisfy him. And here Snape had always thought Harry knew who he was and his destiny. It was part of the reason he had disliked him so much. Famous little brat.  
  
   “I didn’t even know about Voldemort until then. They told me my parents died in a car crash until Hagrid came to pick me up.”   
   Harry felt Snape’s body tense below him, and he leant back down against him, his arm lying onto the man’s chest. He could feel Snape’s magic getting angry, and he rubbed his hand smoothly against the man’s body to try and soothe it.   
   “It doesn’t matter now, though. I know who I am, and even without their help I was able to defeat Voldemort. I had the help of my true family and friends. I didn’t need them. And I have you now,” he smiled, feeling the heartbeat beneath him pick up in tempo just a tad.   
  
   Putting his hand back to Harry’s back, Severus basked in the touch of Harry’s gentle magic. It was getting late, and the both of them needed sleep. He would have urged Harry back to the Gryffindor common-room, but he didn’t wish to suffer all night, and Harry had the Invisibility Cloak if he needed it. It sounded selfish of him, but it also gave him the opportunity to be with Harry. With the potions in his system, it didn’t even seem reasonable to send Harry back to the Gryffindor common-room. So he allowed him to stay.  
   The both of them soon fell asleep.


	24. Brotherhood

Chapter Twenty Four: Brotherhood  
  
   Early in the morning, McGonagall headed down to the hospital wing to check on Severus and if he was up to teaching today. When she arrived, she saw that Poppy’s office was open, but it didn’t seem like she had been out to check on Severus yet—the curtain to his bed drawn.  
   Walking over, she pulled the curtain aside to see the sight before her. As heart-warming as it was, she was furious that Potter had disobeyed her orders and had come down here again.   
   On the bed, Severus was on the edge, his injured arm tucked beneath his chin with Harry against his back, an arm over his stomach. She couldn’t see the Invisibility Cloak as it had fallen off the bed during the night. Potter was just on the covers.   
   Clearing her voice, she got the attention of Severus, his eyes gently opening in the morning light of the hospital wing. “By this rate, Gryffindor is certainly going to lose the House Cup,” she muttered.     
  
   Hearing the voice of the Headmistress, Severus immediately turned over his shoulder to see Harry, removing his hand from him as if it were a sin to touch him. The events of last night seemed to slap him in the face. Oh Merlin, what the hell had he been babbling while high on potions?  
   “He came down this morning, Headmistress. I assure you, he was not here all night,” he lied, pushing the hair from his face. He moved away from Harry as far as he could on the bed. What an awkward sight to walk in on, and to wake up to… Not that he didn’t enjoy the feel of Potter against him, but he wasn’t used to sharing a bed with anyone.   
  
   McGonagall shook her head. She had seen Potter go to bed, so she could only take Severus’ word for it, but she had a sneaking suspicion he was lying. He was just very good at it. Then again, Severus was not new to protecting Harry from trouble.   
   “Potter, wake up,” she said loudly, the boy immediately stirring and looking up. He seemed to look around for something before Snape turned to him.  
  
   “Get back to your common room, Potter,” said the Slytherin. “I’m positive I will see you in class now that my arm is no longer suffering.” He didn’t mention anything about what he spoke about last night. Certainly not while McGonagall was here. How utterly embarrassing…   
  
   Harry didn’t have much time to say goodbye or even comfort Snape in the morning hours, he just grabbed his Cloak and headed back to the Gryffindor common room before anyone else woke up.   
  
   “Severus, you need to stop encouraging the boy,” said Minerva.  
  
   Sitting up, Snape raised a brow. “And when has Potter ever listened to me? I assure you, if he were a Slytherin, such as myself, he would not be roaming around at ungodly hours,” he made clear.   
  
   Rolling her eyes, McGonagall sighed. “How is your arm this morning?” she said, Poppy peeking out of her office at the noise. The witch came over at once and took the bandaged arm into her hand.  
  
   “Much better,” said Snape. Somewhere in his sleep the pain must have gone and the skin must have healed from the elixir he was given last night.    
  
   Unwrapping the tourniquet, Madam Pomfrey took a look at the healed skin, pressing the Dark Mark gently. “It seems to have healed perfectly well overnight, Severus. You should be able to get your things and be back in the dungeons as soon as possible.” She removed the stained bandage completely.  
  
   Snape rolled his arm sleeve down over the tattoo. “The students will be thrilled,” he drawled sarcastically before pushing himself out of bed. His robes were already waiting by the side-table when he’d come in after being attacked. They were clean of bloodstains.   
  
   “The student has been expelled from Hogwarts and is packing now. He shall be on the train home as soon as possible. The others have all been informed of the consequences of such behaviour last night at dinner. You should not have anyone attempt to attack you again as long as I am running the school,” said McGonagall, pleased to see the Slytherin up and moving about normally again. “I will allow you to get changed.”   
  
   When Minerva drew the curtain, Severus was glad to hear the little shit that attacked him was expelled. He may not have been able to hex him back as a student, but he sure as hell didn’t have to protect him if he weren’t a student at Hogwarts anymore.   
   He removed his pyjamas and got changed into his teaching robes before pulling the curtain back and stepping out, tucking his wand up his sleeve.   
  
   “Severus, with the circumstances, I am afraid that I will have to announce your relationship with Potter,” said Minerva, having been waiting. “Students will be asking about it, and it would be best if the events were to be apparent.”   
  
   “You’re not suggesting that you inform them of Potter and I having… slept together,” Severus said, feeling rather awkward. He understood that the students needed to know simply because they would be asking questions why other students and teachers weren’t allowed to date, but they didn’t need to know that fact!   
  
   “No, of course not,” McGonagall said, waving a hand. “You will have the time to address your House. I will not make it a public event, but I must insist that before breakfast you speak to your House members, as the rest of us will be.”  
  
   The thought of that was horrid. Severus was not a bad Head of House, in fact, contrary to what the other Houses thought of him, he made a habit of checking in on his House members occasionally before he shooed them off to bed.   
   He may not be fond of children, but he had known what it was like in his own Hogwarts days to be ignored by professors and Head of House members. He had told himself that he would not allow his students to feel neglected the way he had. The Slytherins were actually very tight with one another. They were a brotherhood, despite what others thought of them. They stood up for their own.   
   “I will address them this morning,” he promised, giving a gentle nod. “They will be waking up soon, I suppose I should make myself presentable.” He needed to shave and take a shower considering he hadn’t been able to last night.   
  
   “Yes, of course. I will walk you out,” Minerva said with a tight lipped smile as they headed out of the hospital wing.   
  
*****     
   Although in his pyjamas, Harry didn’t mind as he was pretty much the only one up right now. Classes didn’t start until a while, and breakfast was yet to be served. He would have hid underneath the Cloak, but there honestly didn’t seem much point.  
   When he was walking the corridors, he heard the sound of turning wheels, and he looked up the thin corridor, seeing someone dressed in Slytherin robes. It was Harley Wadlow, the younger Slytherin boy who had hit him a while back outside Snape’s class.  
   Why did he have his trunk with him, though? As if he was leaving…  
   “It was you!” Harry said, brows furrowing as the round boy turned around. “You attacked Snape. And now you’re getting expelled over it!”  
  
   Harley’s dark eyes narrowed towards Potter. “It was worth every bit of it. Just a shame I didn’t rip it from his arm.”  
  
   Harry would have thought a person like Wadlow would have enjoyed the fact that Snape had been a Death Eater and a follower of Voldemort. Why would he try and _remove_ the Dark Mark from Snape’s body? Why would a Slytherin _attack_ another Slytherin!?   
   His fingers twitched eagerly to grab his wand that was sitting in his pants pocket along with the map from last night. The Cloak was in his hand, but he wanted to drop it just so he could attack the kid. He knew it wasn’t right to fight him, but he’d hurt Snape! He’d caused him to ache all night. If it weren’t for Harry staying there through the night, he doubted Snape would have gotten much sleep at all! Or even healed! When their magic was connected, it was powerful beyond belief.    
   “Why do _you_ care if Snape has a Mark or not? You’re a Slytherin. He’s your Head of House! Why attack him!?”  
  
   “Because he doesn’t _deserve_ to be marked with something as powerful as the Dark Mark! He’s a traitor!” Harley snapped angrily. “He’s a filthy liar! And then he goes and screws you!? Harry Potter! The enemy of the Dark Lord! How disgusting! I couldn’t _bear_ being in the same common room as him! A Slytherin? He’s no more a Slytherin than Dumbledore was a great wizard!”  
  
   Harry’s jaw went tight in fury. How dare he insult Snape _and_ Dumbledore in the same sentence!? Both of them were great wizards, and Snape was _very much_ a Slytherin!  
   “So you attacked him!?” he asked, angry and horrified. He knew the news of them sleeping together wasn’t going to get many positive remarks, but _attacking_ and trying to remove the Dark Mark from Snape’s arm? Snape had done a damn good job in being by Voldemort’s side, even if he was a spy. He had _earned_ his place in the Inner Circle—as strange as that sounded.   
   “It’s not his fault our magic connected! It’s not my fault, either. It’s Ancient Magic, and it doesn’t mean you have to go and attack someone just because they like someone you don’t! Leave him alone. If it’s me you hate then come and attack me! Clearly you’re a sick Voldemort follower. I’m the one that killed him, so take it out on me and leave Severus alone!” Harry sounded rather teenage-like when he yelled all of this.   
  
   A twisted and vile sneer spread across Harley’s face. “Well, if that’s an open invitation, I will!” the round boy yelled, gripping his wand and pointing it to Harry. Instantly, the Gryffindor was thrown back into the corridor wall, his back hitting against the stone with a very satisfying _crack_.  
  
   “Wadlow!”   
  
   The Slytherin looked in horror as the Head of House and McGonagall came running down the corridor. Within a flash, Severus Snape had him by the collar of his shirt and had pushed him against the wall, his wand stabbing him underneath the chin.  
   Harley went pale as the dark eyes were on him, furious and clearly protective of Potter. He winced as the pointed end of Snape’s wand stabbed into the soft flesh of his chin, ready to curse him. He knew very well what Professor Snape could do—including the Killing Curse.   
   “You wouldn’t hurt a student, P-Professor…” he whimpered feebly. He could feel sweat actually starting to bead his forehead from fear.   
  
   “To my knowledge, you are no longer a student here, Wadlow,” Snape sneered, a twisted smirk going across his lips. However, when he heard McGonagall hiss his name, he lowered his wand and dropped the boy, Harley scrambling to his feet and McGonagall grabbing his shoulder so he wouldn’t get away.   
  
   “Mister Wadlow, this is the second time you have attacked a resident here. You will be reported to the Ministry this time!” reported McGonagall furiously. Harry winced as he was on the ground.   
  
   “What are they gunna do!? You both deserve it!” the boy yelled.   
  
   “Severus, take Potter to the hospital wing and get him checked out, I will deal with this pompous child,” said Minerva, dragging Harley away.  
  
   “Potter, are you alright?” Severus asked, leaning down as Harry pushed himself up. Harry had been pushed back quite harshly with the attack from Wadlow.   
  
   “I’m alright,” Harry muttered, feeling a little embarrassed as Snape put his hand on his shoulder. “I don’t need to go to the hospital wing, it’s nothing.”  
  
   “Don’t be so stupid,” Snape said briskly. “You were just tossed at least six metres.” He looked at the wall, seeing some of the stone chipped. Harry must have hit hard. He gave the boy a painful look.    
  
   “I’m fine,” Harry protested, rubbing his back gently and covering up the pain. “I’m alright, I swear.”   
  
   Snape didn’t believe it for a second, especially when Harry winced when he’d touched his back. Through the shirt, he could see a small dabble of red. “Harry, please come to the hospital wing,” he said, looking down. “If not for you, then so I know you are alright. You’re bleeding.”  
  
   Harry tried to look at his back, but it was horribly painful to turn. He groaned a little at the pain.   
  
   Considering the throw had been very solid, Snape examined the boy. “Can you walk? Do you need a lift?”   
  
   “A lift?” Harry asked, a brow rising.  
  
   “Potter, I’m not weak, I can very well carry you,” Snape barked. “Can you walk or not?” If Harry’s spine had been hit against the wall, there was no telling what Wadlow could have done to him by throwing him so far and hard.   
  
   “I told you, I’m fine, Professor.” Like Snape, Harry was stubborn when he was hurting.  
  
   “Are you deaf? I said you are bleeding. Now get here,” Snape said forcefully. “I will levitate you if you disobey.”   
  
   Harry rolled his eyes and knew that Severus was quite serious. “Alright, alright,” he muttered, moving towards the hospital wing. He winced with the steps, his back starting to ache now. He’d hit a lot harder than he thought. Maybe going to the hospital wing wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He kind of liked the idea that Snape cared and was trying to help him as well. It felt nice. And the show of affection felt even nicer.     
  
   Following Harry, Snape allowed the boy to take his wrist when he needed the support of a walking frame. The boy looked like he was in pain, and Severus picked up the Invisibility Cloak that he had brought down last night to stay with him. He wasn’t even going to discuss what they had talked about last night when he was out of his mind on healing potions and he was more than happy that Potter didn’t mention it either.  
  
   “Why didn’t you tell me it was him?” Harry asked, trying not to show that the pain was actually starting to grow all through his back and limbs now.   
  
   Snape continued forward, only giving Harry a side-glance. “Because I knew you would go looking for him. You’re a Gryffindor, Potter… it’s in your nature to go looking for trouble and stick up for the people you care for.”   
  
   Harry felt a little embarrassed that Snape admitted to him caring for him. “I wouldn’t have done anything,” he said, his voice promising. He wouldn’t ever attack anyone unless provoked.   
  
   “Potter, our magic has bonded, and it means the two of us will be very protective and irrational when it comes to either one of us being in danger,” he said, which explained why he had jumped and threatened Wadlow mere seconds ago. Naturally, he wouldn’t usually do something like that—especially to a Slytherin (even if former). “Unfortunately, you may not have been able to stop yourself.”   
  
   He hadn’t known that, but it made sense to why he wanted to stay with Snape so much last night. He was in pain and he wanted to take that way. But that wasn’t just his magic speaking; he didn’t want Snape to suffer either. The thought of Snape in pain wasn’t very satisfying at all. But what the professor was saying made sense. He had noticed he was more protective of Snape that he normally would be. Even Ginny when they’d been together. Not that he could compare what he and Snape had to what he and Ginny had.  
   He didn’t argue the case, and instead continued walking slowly to the hospital wing. When they arrived, Snape ordered him to sit on the bed as he went and got Madam Pomfrey from her office. He didn’t really want to be here, but he was getting relatively sore now, and he rather liked the idea of Snape taking care of him.   
   A moment passed before both Snape and Madam Pomfrey came out, and the witch ordered him to take off his shirt. Hesitantly, he did so, revealing his back.   
  
   “Ohh, yes… you will certainly need some medicine to get that fixed up. I’ll just go fetch it,” said the medi-witch before leaving once more to go to her stock cupboard.  
  
   Severus found himself staring at Harry’s back. But he wasn’t staring at the red wound that was on it now, but other previous wounds. Scars. How had he not seen these before when they had shared the bed?  
   “Potter, what are these?” he asked bluntly, his hand gently touching one of the scars against the pale back. It wasn’t large, but it was big enough to have left a groove in the Gryffindor’s back. Much like a belt buckle…   
  
   Looking at the ground, Harry placed his hands onto the edge of the bed. “Scars…” he said, as if it were nothing. He was actually very self-conscious about his body, and he didn’t really feel good knowing that Snape was looking at him. Didn’t Snape see them the other night?  
   “W-why? I… I thought you would have already known they were there,” he mumbled softly, shooting a quick glance behind his shoulder before he felt Snape’s hand leave him. The black robes were soon in front of him.   
  
   “Admittedly, I can’t recall most of the other night. Our magic was rather intoxicating,” Snape murmured. “Who did this to you?” The thought of someone putting these on Harry’s body angered something deep within him. Maybe from his own childhood, he didn’t know. Maybe just because he was protective of Potter. Whatever it was, it was making him want to destroy whoever did this.   
  
   Looking up, Harry faintly remembered the feeling of scars on Snape’s body that night as well. Again, he didn’t see much, like Snape, but he had felt them. They hadn’t really even _seen_ each other nude. They had sex, and yet… they hardly knew what one another looked like beneath the clothes. It was actually fairly odd and shameful in Harry’s opinion.   
   “I got into a lot of trouble when I was little,” Harry said, shrugging and trying to ignore the pain. Madam Pomfrey was taking a lot longer than he thought.   
  
   Potter getting into this kind of trouble? That was a lie. Harry didn’t go looking for fights. Attention and bravery, maybe, but he did not go looking for fights.   
   Kneeling down, Severus looked up to the boy, brushing some of his hair away from those green eyes. Harry’s hair was getting rather long, much like in his fourth year (Severus mentally rolled his eyes that he remembered that).   
   “Harry, you do not strike me as the person to go looking for fights with larger people. I mean no offense to your stature, but these scars are not from you looking for trouble. Somebody has put these on you. Your uncle? Your cousin? Who did this?”   
  
   Harry felt uneasy, his shoulders pulling in a little. “Primary school bullies,” he admitted. “I was a pretty easy target in school, Professor. I’m small, I was a freak… Dudley did nothing to help that, and Uncle Vernon made sure to put me to work around the house. Mostly things that weren’t really physically possible. When I did something wrong, like accidental magic… he didn’t hit me, he was too afraid of that, but that didn’t stop him from putting me to work. And Dudley’s school friends certainly didn’t think I was powerful.”   
  
   Severus found himself looking angrily at the boy. Not at Harry, but at the thought of a grown man abusing Harry, not to mention allowing his son and his son’s friends to continue beating Harry. That punch was coming nearer and nearer.  
   “How long did this go on for?” he asked, seeing Poppy standing in the threshold to her office. She hadn’t moved and had a small bottle in her hands. It was clear she was letting them talk at the sight of Harry’s back.   
  
   “Until I came to Hogwarts…” Harry admitted. “It’s nothing, Professor… They took me in, I probably deserved it. Once I got a wand, it pretty much stopped anyway…”  
  
   “No,” Snape said harshly. “You did not deserve this.” Something in Snape felt horrible for finding this information out, and it made him remember his own neglectful and abusive childhood. His mother hadn’t abused him, but she had allowed it to go on before she had ended up killing herself when he was in school. His father had died from alcohol poisoning a few years later, leaving the house in Spinner’s End to him. Not that he really saw it as a home.   
   But to know that all these years, Harry had been abused by the Dursleys and by his peers? He felt awful knowing that he had been so cruel to Harry in his years. He had always thought Harry had had a splendid life leading up to Hogwarts. Never did he think that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived would have a life as miserable as his was at home. Petunia was not a nice person, but he never thought she’d let abuse go on under he nose. He felt an odd sensation of guilt go through his bones. Not to mention anger at Dumbledore! He’d known about this, for sure!   
  
   “It’s nothing, Professor. Don’t worry about it,” Harry said, seeing something change in Severus’ expression. He didn’t know what the professor was thinking, but he knew it was nothing good. Plus, it hadn’t been _that_ bad, really… Sure, the Dursleys were horrible, but… they did take him in. Even though they hated him. It taught him how to appreciate the small things in life.  
  
   Snape stood back up, knowing that Harry didn’t wish to talk about it. Madam Pomfrey instantly came in as they fell silent and tended to Harry’s back.   
  
   “There, that should stop the swelling, and the bruising should go down in a minute or two. You can put your shirt back on, Mister Potter,” said the witch. “You’re lucky, a hit further down and you may have cracked your spine.”  
  
   At hearing that, Harry was glad that wasn’t the case. He was sure Madam Pomfrey could heal a cracked spine, but it still sounded dreadfully painful. He put his shirt back on immediately to cover himself up before standing and feeling much better than he had mere seconds ago.   
   “I guess I should head back to Gryffindor Tower,” he said gently. He felt awkward that Severus now knew about his past at Privet Drive. He felt like the man was pitying him or something, and he didn’t want that. The last thing he needed from Snape was pity when the man had spent most of his years here detesting him and making his life miserable.   
  
   That brought Snape’s attention back to his discussion with the Headmistress. “Before you go,” he started, Harry beginning to walk, “I should inform you that our relationship is going to be announced to each House this morning, as per the Headmistress’ orders.”   
  
   Stopping, Harry felt himself go stiff, his cheeks burning lightly. Well, they already all pretty much knew about it as it was, but… the thought of McGonagall having to talk about it to all the Gryffindor students while he was there was haunting. How the hell was Snape going to explain it to his Slytherins as well? Somehow he was thinking that wasn’t going to be very easy.   
   “Well, I suppose at least it’s not in the Great Hall or something,” he muttered, continuing to walk. “I guess she has her reasons. I can only imagine how many people think that it’s totally okay to go dating anyone they wish.”   
  
   “Indeed,” noted Severus before the both of them fell silent. Severus was going over his options in how to explain this to his House. He could only imagine the sneers he was going to get from this. He’d had enough trouble with students yesterday, let alone getting attacked. Minerva McGonagall had made an announcement, though, and he was sure no more students would outright physically hurt him. This time he’d be prepared.   
  
   “Professor?” asked Harry, his voice soft.  
  
   “Yes?”   
  
   “This is my fault…”  
  
   Severus stopped, giving the young man a curious look. “And why would you say that, Potter?”   
  
   Harry looked down, having the Invisibility Cloak in his hands once more from when he left the hospital wing. “You got attacked because of me. Because you like me. Because we slept together… If it weren’t for me, the person who defeated Voldemort… then you wouldn’t be getting picked on. I mean, no offence, but your House is kinda the House full of Death Eaters…”   
  
   Yes, well that wasn’t exactly a secret. Slytherins did enjoy power. “Potter, it is not your doing that our magic bonded. That is something beyond either of our control,” he said as gently as possible. “Honestly, I’m positive no one is thrilled that you are dating me, of all people. I am sure you are getting just as much grief as I.”  
   Merlin, who Snape dated probably wasn’t even important. But this was Harry Potter. Of all people in the world. And everyone _had_ to know who Potter was involved with, because nothing could be a secret with him. He had no idea how their damn magic bonded, but he didn’t question it because there was no simple answer. It was something they just couldn’t stop. The both of them just had to roll with it.   
  
   “Yeah, but I can take it,” Harry said.  
  
   Snape raised a brow. “You assume I cannot? Potter, after my own years at Hogwarts, I assure you I am quite capable of holding my own.”  
  
   “I don’t mean that,” the Gryffindor said, shaking his head. “I mean… I’m used to people talking about me. I’m used to people looking at me and judging me, just waiting for my next screw up or something brave coming from me. I know you got picked on in school, and I know a lot of that was because of my father, and… I don’t want to be the cause of that happening all over again.” Harry’s voice sounded guilty now. He’d hated seeing what his father and Sirius had done to Snape in his memories. The last thing he ever wanted to do was put Snape in the spotlight like that again.   
  
   Stopping Harry to where they would have to separate, Snape looked down at the shorter wizard and put his hand onto his shoulder. “Potter, as much as I detest your father, you are nothing like him. At one point, I may have argued that, but things are different now. James Potter did nothing but make my life miserable. He took the girl I had loved, he tormented me endlessly, and then he died. But the man brought you into this world, and as much as it pains me to admit this… I thank him for doing so.”   
  
   It sounded strange, and maybe even a bit wrong, but Harry understood that Snape was trying to make it a compliment. He smiled gently. “You will tell me how it goes, won’t you? The Slytherins?”   
  
   “Technically, Potter, you and I are still not meant to be seen in any kind of unprofessional manner, but I will try my best to catch you in the corridors. I’m positive it won’t be hard. After all, you do draw quite a crowd,” he sighed unenthusiastically.   
  
   Harry’s smile turned into a grin. “I’m not going to enjoy hearing Professor McGonagall talk about… relationships,” he groaned.  
  
   “You didn’t almost have to suffer ‘the talk’ with her, Potter, you hardly have anything to groan about.”   
  
   Harry’s eyes went wide. “You’re not serious. She what!?”  
  
   “Common room, now, Potter,” Snape ordered, the boy giving a whine as if he wanted to hear all about it. Snape just walked in the other direction towards the dungeons. It was time to talk to his Slytherins.   
  
*****    
   Going through his options, Severus kept his ever-reserved expression as he headed towards the Slytherin common room down in the dungeons. It was simple, really. Just say the facts. There was no reason to lie about it—plus he wasn’t allowed to. McGonagall had made it clear that these events had to come out so the students knew that it was simply because of their magic that they were allowed to ‘date’.  
   Date? Pff. Severus could have rolled his eyes. It hadn’t been a date, even if Potter had said it was. He simply invited the Gryffindor over so they could talk, because, let’s face it, they clearly knew nothing about one another.  
   How had he managed to miss seeing the small collection of beatings on Potter’s back? He had been staring right at it when he’d been… Okay, best not think of that. That was just going to get his magic started, and he didn’t need that right now.   
   Ever since they’d consummated their relationship, the thought of being with Potter again had been very hard to ignore. Especially last night when the young man had been laying against him. He knew Potter was feeling the same urges as well. To be fair, it had been a wonderful feeling. He was only human after all. But he would control himself. It wouldn’t happen again. They needed to know one another before that ever happened again, and Severus was still coming to terms with his feelings.    
   Telling his students, though? He could just imagine the questions. No, they didn’t need to know anything about that. Goddamnit, life had been so much fucking easier when the two of them had hated one another! He never thought something like this would happen!   
   Why him!? Why him and Potter? Potter could have chosen anyone else, and he simply had no romantic interests in anyone, and then just… poof? All of a sudden their magic is connected. He had no idea how it had happened. Maybe because Potter had saved his life?  
   Oh, Merlin, what if that was really the reason why? Because Potter, although still thinking he was nothing but a traitor, had saved him from death? Could that possibly be the reason why? But he disliked Potter back then, even waking up to see him instead of Lily. The fucking boy had stolen him from staying with her! Of course he hated him the moment he woke up!  
   Severus mentally growled to himself. It didn’t matter, did it? It had happened, and through that bond, the both of them had actually started to like one another. And then they acted on it, and now he had to tell the students why…  
   Well, not the fact that he and Potter had slept together. He could keep that to himself. No one needed to know of his private life, and his students certainly didn’t need _that_ image in their heads. Not that they hadn’t already been thinking it when stupid Rita Skeeter blabbed it out.  
    _’Bitch’_.   
   As he finally reached the common room, he said the password and entered the underground quarters that were located under the Black Lake. Inside, most of the students were awake, their eyes looking up. He saw Draco Malfoy, who was a Prefect now, give him a strange look. He merely returned it; nonetheless, the room went instantly quiet.   
  
   “Is it true? What the papers say?” said Malfoy. This was the first time any of them (unless they shared a class with Snape) had seen him since yesterday morning’s events—and him being rushed to the hospital wing.   
  
   “I want you to return to your set rooms. I will come speak to both boys and girls privately, is that clear?” The thought of all of them together he knew wasn’t a good one. It was best if they were told separately. The girls didn’t need to hear the things the boys wanted to say and vice versa.  
   Immediately, the Slytherins started dispersing and heading into their separate quarters. Right… girls would be much easier to talk to first, yes? The smart thing would be to probably leave the easier thing to last, but if the boys made him snappy, he didn’t wish to take it out on the poor girls.   
   When the room was completely empty, he moved up towards the girls’ dormitory, the girls all sitting in the one room on their green and silver four-poster beds. It smelled like love potions in here, which made him wince a little. Clearly his Slytherites were up to something bad. He wasn’t here to talk about that, though. He wasn’t here to take points from his own House. There was even a small bit of pride in him that his Slytherins were good Potioneers.   
  
   “Skeeter was telling the truth, wasn’t she?” said one of the girls. “You and the Potter boy?” The girl shook her head. “I thought you were one of us.”   
  
   “Being a Slytherin is not about being a pure-blood, a dark wizard, a Death Eater or a supporter of the Dark Lord,” Snape said simply. “Being a Slytherin is about being cunning, having determination, thought process. Not jumping to conclusions so swiftly.”   
  
   “But you’re… like… all of those things.”  
  
   Snape rolled his eyes, pulling a seat over and sitting down. “First, I am a half-blood, Miss Morgan, and second, I would have thought my loyalties were quite clear at the end of the last school year.” He wasn’t about to explain to this bunch of teenagers why he’d become a Death Eater and then followed Dumbledore. No one needed to know the details.   
  
   The dark haired girl frowned, looking as Snape sat down on the chair backwards, his arms going across the back of the seat.   
  
   “Now, before there are any more assumptions, let me make things clear for you,” he said, standing back up. “It is forbidden for any student and teacher to have any sort of romantic relationship, however, the events of Potter and myself are not that of the average means. Potter’s magic and my own, which is a form of uncontrollable Ancient Magic, has seemed to bond to one another-,”  
  
   “Because he saved you?” questioned one of the girls rather dreamily.  
  
   “Possibly, I am not certain,” Severus muttered, his hands intertwining in front of him. “This particular magic is very powerful, and it does create a rather impossible separation without possibly losing one’s mind.” Not to mention the strong desires and horrible erotic dreams.   
  
   “Oh… so that’s it?” Alicia Morgan said. “It’s just your magic. So for you to keep sane, you and Potter have to be close to one another? Well, you sure had us going, Professor Snape. We all thought you actually _liked_ the Gryffindor Golden Boy.”   
  
   Morgan was the only one that seemed to laugh at this, and Severus realised most of the girls were giving her an odd look. Why the hell did he think that the girls would be easier to talk to? Nice going, Severus.  
   “What my feelings are towards Potter is none of your concern,” he said briskly to all of them, “The fact of the matter is that you will be seeing the both of us together in some cases. I will not make a habit to make any public display of affection, I hardly think that is necessary in school, but it could still be a possibility in the future.” Not that he was affectionate.   
  
   Alicia looked up, giving a rather curious look. “So… you do like him?”  
  
   “Miss Morgan, I will refrain from taking points from my own House as much as possible, but you are beginning to get on my nerves,” Snape said flatly. The girl went a rather bright shade of pink in the dim green lights of the room.   
   “What concerns you is that the rules still apply to each and every resident here at Hogwarts. The only reason Potter and I are allowed to be seen together is because this magic outlaws the Ministry, and thus the rules of Hogwarts.   
   “Do not make me regret this, but as a Head of House, and as I do care for my Slytherins, do you have any questions? _Not_ about Potter or the events of yesterday. Or anything that has to do with that moronic Rita Skeeter woman.”   
   The room was silent for a moment, and Severus gave a curt nod. “Very well. Breakfast will start soon. You may make your way down to the Great Hall whilst I talk to the boys.”   
   Severus let himself out, heading down the stairs and up to the boy’s dormitory. Inside, he could hear the ruckus, but it soon went quiet as he entered. Now, to repeat himself—which he loathed doing. He should have just spoken to them all at once, would have probably been better, but still. Boys could be nasty with their words, and much more open to sexual innuendos. The girls didn’t need to hear that kind of rubbish. At least they kept their thoughts to themselves most of the time.   
  
   Malfoy stood up from his bed, looking at the Head of House. “I know you, sir, you helped me out of killing Dumbledore,” he whispered, walking over to the Potions master. “You can’t possibly have feelings for Potter after all this time…”   
  
   Despite the boy’s tone, Severus could see something in his eyes was deceiving him, as if Draco Malfoy wouldn’t actually care if he did have feelings for Potter. He was probably just shocked and surprised by it.   
   “Mister Malfoy, sit back down,” he stated. He explained the exact same thing as he had to the girls before. The boys were much rowdier and more apparent with their snide remarks, but a small change of tone in his voice and they soon knew to shut up or he would start taking points—which he didn’t really wish to do. Slytherin was already in the lead no thanks to Potter at the beginning of the year (and how other Houses had been acting about the recent events), but that didn’t mean they couldn’t lose the House Cup later down the track. The bigger the lead, the better.   
   Once more, when he had finished, he asked, “Are there any other questions regarding the rules and not myself and Potter?”   
  
   “You’re not going to start favouring Gryffindor now, are you?” asked one of the boys. He was a second year here, small for his age, and had blonde hair.   
  
   “Pff, yeah right, this is Snape. Even if he was screwing Potter,” said one of the others, thin, dark dyed red hair and black glasses.   
  
   Severus could have laughed, but he didn’t. He kept his expression very unimpressed with the seventh year. “Mister Johnson, it’s _Professor_ Snape, and if you insinuate that I am doing that with Potter again, you’ll have detention with Filch.”  
  
   Johnson fell silent at the mention of that, folding his arms and looking away.   
  
   “No, I will not be favouring Gryffindor. I am still your Head of House, and I am still the Professor you knew before Skeeter filled your heads with abominations. Now, you may head to the Great Hall for breakfast, and keep your comments to yourself. I may not take points from you, but the other professors will, I assure you of that. Now go.”   
   As the boys all filed out of the room, Severus mentally groaned, going to follow them back down. That was before he heard a soft voice say his name. He turned to see who it was, and a young first year was still inside the room looking rather nervous.   
   “Yes, Mister Malcolm? Is there something else you wish to speak of?” he asked. The boy seemed horribly nervous. He’d been a bit skittish since he’d been here. Severus figured it would wear off soon. Just first-year nerves. Everyone got them at one point. But the boy seemed to be shy still. Not all Slytherin’s were cunning and sharp with their tongues.    
  
   “I-it’s my first year here, and… I-I was wondering, when are we going to learn about… that kind of stuff?”   
  
   Snape mentally groaned. He was not good at this! Sex was the worst subject to talk about with him! Alas, he was the Head of Slytherin, and he always told his students that they could come to him about anything. Even that. He didn’t check them every night before he went to bed, but he did make himself noticed if they did every now and again.   
   “Andy, correct?” he asked, the boy nodding. He placed a hand onto the boy’s shoulder. “Muggle Studies covers sex education in your second-year. Considering you are only eleven, you do not need to be worrying yourself about something like that.”  
  
   “B-but I… did something-,” The boy’s pale cheeks went very red.   
  
   “Yes?” Severus prodded. The boy’s eyes flashed to his bed, pointing to it. Snape stood, approaching it and pulling the sheets back. “I see.” Clearly the boy had had an exciting dream.   
  
   “I’m sorry!” Andy put his hands over his face as if he were about to be horribly scolded for his accident. “I-I didn’t know who else to tell! I thought the others would tease me about it and laugh at me.”  
  
   Not the waterworks. Snape mentally sighed. “What you have done is nothing different from any of the other boys in your House, or your year, or Hogwarts,” he said, Andy’s eyes peeking through his fingers. “You’re just… maturing into a man.” He paused for a moment as Andy seemed confused. “Your body is maturing, and this will happen rather frequently at such an age,” he stated simply. “You are no different from any other boy or man here at Hogwarts. You have nothing to fear from your fellow House members. And if you have any trouble with them, then come directly to me and I will sort them out.”  
  
   “S-so… even… professors have accidents?”  
  
   Snape went stiff for a moment. He wasn’t going there. ”Take out your wand.” Andy did so. “Now, if this happens again, you take your wand out, point it to your… mess, and say ‘ _Scourgify_ ’. You have to mean it when you say it.”  
  
   Andy took out his wand, his face scrunching a little. But he didn’t hesitate. “ _Scourgify_!” he yelled, watching as the mess disappeared before his eyes, bubbles popping out the end of his wand. He turned to the professor and looked amazed that he’d done it the first go.   
  
   “Impressive,” Snape murmured approvingly, though his expression still uniform. “It seems you have a talent for Charms, Mister Malcolm. Why don’t you have a talk to Professor Flitwick later today? He may be able to give you some extra charms to learn.”    
  
   Andy gave a gleaming look. “Thanks, Professor, you’re the best!”  
  
   “Quite,” said Snape flatly. “Get to the Great Hall before you are late for breakfast.” Andy did so, and Severus felt a massive weight lift off his shoulders, rubbing his forehead. That was before he heard a very mimicked, “Thanks, Professor, you’re the best,” come from behind him.  
   Immediately, Snape turned, his wand hand twitching, only to see Harry Potter standing behind him, his Invisibility Cloak only showing the top half of his body as it was draped down his back and arms.  
   “Potter! What the hell are you doing here!? How did you even get in here!?” he questioned, grabbing the door and closing it just in case one of the other Slytherins decided they wanted something from out of here.  
  
   “I followed you,” Harry shrugged. “I wanted to see what you were like to your Slytherins. I have to say, you’re much nicer to them than I thought…”  
  
   “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Snape spat. No, he didn’t even want to know. “The Headmistress is going to notice your absence, Potter, and breakfast is going to start soon. You best get back to your common room before I’m suspected of keeping you.” That was the last thing they needed right now.  
  
   Harry grinned a little, enjoying teasing the man. It had been unusual to see Snape so calm and nice to students. He gathered he favoured his Slytherins all the time, but still. It was quite nice. Not to mention a little annoying considering how easily he tossed everyone else aside. He never would have thought Snape would be such a mother-hen to his Slytherins.   
   “Well, I don’t think I’d mind that,” he said, smiling as Snape gave him an odd look. He moved a little closer to Snape, feeling their magic touch, and his fingers took the professor’s belt buckle.    
  
   “Potter, get out,” Snape muttered in annoyance, grabbing the Cloak and pulling it back over the Gryffindor’s head. “Come on.” He ignored their magic the best he could, feeling his skin prickle.  
   Opening the door, Snape pushed Potter out and headed down the stairs and back out of the common room, making sure Harry was following him.   
  
   Underneath his Cloak, Harry watched the man as he walked down the corridor, taking those long strides of his. “You know, I thought it was kind of sweet… telling that boy how to clean up. At his age, it would have been nice to have someone covering your back.”  
  
   Snape was about to hiss at the boy and tell him to shut up considering he didn’t wish to be seen talking to air. Instead, he just made a grunt. He was afraid if he spoke he might let something sentimental out. He wasn’t sentimental; he just figured it would stop the boy from worrying about something that was completely normal to adolescent wizards.   
   “Go, Potter,” he said once they’d reached the fork that lead to Gryffindor Tower. “I will speak to you later.”   
  
   Harry pulled the Cloak down and nodded. “I’ll see you later, Professor,” he smiled, heading down the other corridor, still dressed in his pyjamas.


	25. Death Eaters

Chapter Twenty Five: Death Eaters.  
  
   Just because each House had been spoken to about his and Snape’s relationship, didn’t mean the sneers and whispers, name-calling and horrible rumours hadn’t continued. Harry had still been getting tossed horrid innuendos all week, and he was positive Snape had been, too. Nothing was more embarrassing than Professor McGonagall having to explain why their relationship was valid and telling them all that they would now be having a mandatory sex-education lesson again, though.  
   Harry was more than happy when the weekend hit, and he could lazily stay in bed for the morning. He didn’t want to step outside the Gryffindor common room at all, but he knew he couldn’t stay inside all day. It was nice out there, and the sun was shining, despite it being so cold now.  
   In the courtyard, he and Hermione were discussing going down to Hogsmeade for the day. Considering it was the weekend, they could easily catch the train and head to the little village and go to Honeydukes. Well, that was until Harry saw Professor Snape. It was the weekend! He should have asked Snape if he wanted to spend some time with him now that they actually could!  
   The rest of the week’s Potions classes had been horrible. Not just because of the whispers (which Snape soon made clear he wouldn’t tolerate), but because their magic was dreadfully strong when they saw one another. Trying to concentrate was hard as it was with his professor striding around the room in those dark robes of his, but topped off with their magic and Harry’s desire for Snape? Well… it had granted him a horrible problem downstairs. He ended up asking if he could go to the bathroom just to breathe! He had a feeling Snape knew it was an excuse, too.   
   Professor Snape hadn’t had much of a better time, either. He was good at controlling his actions, but at least once Harry had noticed him looking at him, as if in a daze. He’d lost concentration only once, but it was enough to know that Snape’s mind was being toyed with just as much as his from their magic. Luckily, no one else really seemed to care—except Hermione, who had asked how Harry was feeling.  
   They hadn’t had much time to talk at all, let alone being able to be physical—not that he got the feeling Snape wanted to be. But most of all, Harry just wanted to sit down and talk with him. Okay, so his sex drive was booming after his first time (as most people’s), but he really did just want to talk to Snape. Just to get to know one another on a more personal level.  
   “Hey, do you think you could maybe go with Ron?” he asked Hermione, the girl looking up from her book.   
  
   Seeing Snape, Hermione got the idea. “You want to spend time with him?”   
  
   “Yeah, I… I actually kinda do,” Harry said, giving a light smile. He never really thought he’d be saying that—that he wanted to spend time with Professor Snape.   
  
   “Be careful, Harry, he’s in a bad mood.”   
  
   When wasn’t Snape in a bad mood? “How do you know this?”   
  
   “His hands are clenched,” the girl stated. “I noticed it’s in his behaviour. He might not express much on his face, but his body language says enough. Plus, he’s walking pretty fast.”   
  
   “Well, maybe he hasn’t read the good news yet,” said Harry, the _Daily Prophet_ in his hand. Thirteen more Death Eaters on the run had been captured. Surely that was enough for Snape to feel a bit more relieved.   
   Saying goodbye to Hermione, he headed off with a fast pace to catch Snape. “Professor!” he called out, Snape turning his head but continuing to walk. He did slow down a bit for Harry to catch up, though. “Are you alright? You seem a bit tense?”   
  
   Snape just continued walking, even though he felt much calmer as Potter moved alongside him. “Nothing that concerns you, Potter. Do you need something?”   
  
   Was it so hard for Snape to just have a normal and relaxing conversation? He wanted to see what Dumbledore and the other teachers here had seen. Snape being an actual human being instead of his stern self all the time. He really needed to laugh or smile more often.   
   “I was just wondering what you were doing this weekend? You can’t be working, right? I mean, I know there’s still rounds you professors have to do as Hogwarts is a boarding school, but surely you’re not working all day.”   
  
   Snape stopped, looking down at Harry as he was dressed in his Muggle clothes. “Are you asking if I would like to spend the day with you?” he asked, raising a questioning brow. Sure, the thought had occurred, but Potter had his friends, and he didn’t particularly like to feed the fire of the students who would be seeing them together. He’d had enough all week from them.   
  
   The Gryffindor shrugged. “If you’d like to?” Being around Snape so much had made many of Harry’s nerves disappear. He still got nervous around the man, but most of the time it was just because he didn’t know how Snape would react. He was unpredictable a lot of the time.   
  
   Severus turned his body to Harry to give him his full attention. “And what, Potter, would you recommend us do? Go to Hogsmeade where the students can see and give them what they want, Hogs Head where the other professors can torment us? Honestly, Potter, you’re going to cause more trouble than worth.”   
  
   That wasn’t true. Snape was worth it. He knew the man didn’t enjoy the talk from the students, but it would blow over soon enough. The two of them just had to ignore it the best they could. He was used to it by now, and Snape surely knew what it was like to be picked on—so he’d made clear numerous amounts of times through comments of James and Sirius.   
   “Actually, I was just hoping to spend the day inside with you. Maybe in your office or something. Somewhere quiet and comfortable… I don’t have to go out of Hogwarts, and I’d rather the _Prophet_ didn’t see us yet.”   
  
   Severus just looked at the boy, a little surprised that he would ask something like that. Harry was still a young Gryffindor (even though his request seemed rather Slytherin), he figured he would have wanted out on the weekend as soon as possible. He had to stop assuming with Potter… It was a bad habit, and one that wasn’t dying easily.   
   He only had little work to do today, and that was something he figured was actually quite simple—quiz questions. Nothing hard. He supposed he could have lunch with Potter, that didn’t seem like such a bad idea.   
   “If you are doing nothing at midday, you are welcome to swing by my office. We could have lunch. Nothing fancy, just something simple,” he suggested, feeling rather awkward doing so. _’Damnit, get a grip, Severus, it’s just lunch! It’s not like you’re going to let it get out of hand again. Besides, you need to talk more often. He is… after all… your… partner?’_  
   Snape looked away for a moment, his hands going behind his back. To his surprise, Potter agreed.  
  
   “That sounds great. I’ll bring something this time… I feel I kind of owe you considering everything that’s been going on. Your arm, getting into trouble by McGonagall, and… everyone saying horrible things behind our backs.”   
  
   That again? Potter needed to stop blaming himself. “I am just as responsible for what happened that night, Potter. You have to stop taking the blame, unless you feel that’s also a heroic Gryffindor duty of yours?” he drawled, rolling his eyes.  
  
   “I don’t see you not taking the blame. That’s not very Slytherin of you, Professor,” Harry smirked.  
  
   Snape’s brow furrowed. “I’ll have you know, Potter, that not everything about being a Slytherin is lying and blaming other people for your wrong doings,” he said sharply. “Slytherins are loyal to those we see fit to deserve it.”   
  
   “No, you are a bit of a mother-hen, aren’t you?”  
  
   Snape could have hit the Gryffindor, but he didn’t. Sometimes Potter really did remind him of Lily’s taunting behaviour when they had been children. He’d be lying if he said part of him didn’t actually enjoy it.   
   “Midday, then.” He looked down to Harry’s hands, the _Prophet_ sitting in it. He hadn’t had a chance to read anything yet. “Don’t tell me Skeeter’s written more abominations of us in there…”   
  
   Looking down, Harry brought up the paper. “Nothing out of the ordinary, considering Professor McGonagall has banished her from Hogwarts,” he laughed. “I thought you’d like to read it, though. Thirteen more Death Eaters have been captured and sent to Azkaban.”  
  
   Taking the paper, Snape read down it. So they had. He thought that part of him would be happy about this, but he wasn’t. Yes, it meant less people on his tail, trying to capture him, but at the same time, it meant the remaining Death Eaters would advance. It also meant he could potentially be putting Harry in very close danger. That got him thinking…  
   He thought Hogwarts would be safe, but he was starting to reconsider that thought. He’d seen enough bad things happen here when Dumbledore had said it was ‘safe’ here. But he supposed it was safer here than in Spinner’s End where he was quite open to attack. He did wish he could return home for Christmas. He didn’t think risking it was worth it, though. He’d become accustomed to living again. But Hogwarts was surely to hold celebrations and he really wasn’t keen on that.    
   He handed the paper back to Harry without saying anything about it. As much as it was satisfying to know that more Death Eaters were being caught and captured, and ratting one another out, he was not one to get his hopes up. Especially knowing about the danger at hand now. He couldn’t risk Harry getting hurt…   
  
   Harry took the paper back. “Can I ask why you were so grumpy before?” He’d also noticed that Snape was less snappy now, and he knew it was because of him being here. Snape may not admit it, but his actions said it all.   
  
   Swallowing gently at the change of conversation, Severus just looked down at Harry. “Apparently we were seen in a broom cupboard this morning without our robes…” he muttered rather awkwardly, trying to subdue the blood that was slowly and successfully making its way into his cheeks.   
  
   Harry turned red immediately at the rumour. Of course it wasn’t true! They hadn’t slept together since, and they certainly wouldn’t do it in a dingy old broom cupboard.   
   “O-oh… well, that’s a new one,” he said, looking away rather embarrassedly. He’d heard his fair share as well, but this was certainly the most promiscuous of them.    
  
   “That’s not the worst of it, Potter.” Harry’s green eyes looked back at him, as if trying to brace himself, making him feel even worse. “The new rumour is that we’re both rather… endowed…”   
  
   Oh, God. Harry had to look away. He couldn’t even say if Snape was big or not, he hadn’t actually _seen_ his naked body when they’d had sex. He didn’t even know if Snape had seen him, either! The whole night was such a blur—even though they knew what happened and remembered every feeling of it. He had no recollection of even seeing Snape naked, besides in the morning when he’d seen his backside beneath the shirt he’d slept in.   
   “Well, I suppose that’s not such a bad thing, right?” he asked, looking back at Snape. For the first time, Snape was looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before on the man. He was… shy? Embarrassed?   
   Harry couldn’t help but laugh, covering his mouth with his hand. “I’m sorry, Professor… I just… I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be too worried about it. I mean, we have… you know—done it.”  
  
   Severus just looked away. “That’s all well for you, Potter, you’re the Gryffindor Hero, but I’m a professor here. Do you have any idea how many people are going to be looking at me differently now?” He gave a rather aggravated noise. “I’ve already had students giving me odd looks in the corridors. This isn’t going to get work done, and it’s going to completely ruin my reputation.”  
  
   “You mean the reputation of you being all dark and gloomy? Yeah, I’m sure the girls are gunna love hearing you have a big-,”  
  
   “POTTER!”   
  
   Harry shut his mouth, keeping his lips closed so he wouldn’t laugh. It was somewhat adorable that Snape was uncomfortable about this. Of course, Harry was just as embarrassed about the whole thing, but he was a teenager and he’d had his fair share of rumours about him already—being The Chosen One, et cetera. It was sort of normal for people to assume things of him. Snape, however? That was completely different. The man had been a virgin for thirty-eight years, so he was sure things like this were new to him.    
   “Sorry,” he mumbled, turning as a group of Hufflepuff girls walked past them. All eyes turned to them before they quickly walked away and started giggling. Harry watched as Professor Snape ran his hand over his forehead in irritation.   
   “Do you think we could make that lunch into a brunch?” he asked. “If you’re not busy, that is?” Clearly Snape needed a break from things, and he was more than welcome to keep his magic around to calm him.  
  
   Severus eyed the younger man, venting a gentle sigh. He could honestly do with the calming of Harry’s magic. He could easily take a potion, but why bother when Potter’s magic had almost the same effect? Besides, he didn’t see an issue in it. His work could wait until after. Plus… with the news of the Death Eaters, he really should explain to Harry that it wasn’t exactly anything to celebrate.  
   “Potter, would you prefer to sit in my office or somewhere where you can get some sunlight?” He figured he’d ask. Yes, he was more than comfortable in his own lounge, but that didn’t mean Harry was, and it was the weekend. He was sure the Gryffindor didn’t wish to be trapped inside all weekend.   
  
   “People will see us if we’re outside.”  
  
   “Not necessarily,” Snape stated. “Hagrid’s cabin is quite efficient enough of an area. Of course, that’s if you don’t mind him peering out his window to watch us, or sitting with us.” The half-giant had been pestering him in the staff room before, trying to ask questions about his and Potter’s relationship. Plus, he figured Harry and Hagrid were very close and he hadn’t been able to spend much time with his this year with all the work and homework (not to mention the dramas). It would be best if Harry could turn to someone if things got nasty.  
  
   Harry wasn’t certain if Snape was avoiding being alone with him or not, but seeing Hagrid would be nice, and being in the sunlight for a while considering it was getting rather cold in the later months of the year.   
   “You’re okay with having lunch with Hagrid?” he asked. How close was Hagrid and Snape? How close was _anyone_ with Snape when it came to the staff of Hogwarts? He knew Filch got along with him, but Snape merely tolerated the man. He wouldn’t consider them friends. Then again, Snape hadn’t really had many nice people as friends—besides his mother.   
  
   “I don’t see why not. He is your friend, is he not?”   
  
   Now Harry was certain Snape was avoiding being alone with him. But why? Because he was worried what people might say if they were alone together? Or was he worried about them being alone in the same room together and that something physical might happen?   
   “Yes, of course he is, but why am I getting the feeling that you don’t want to be seen alone with me?” he blatantly asked.   
  
   “Whatever gave you that impression?” stated the Slytherin. “We’re alone right now, Potter, if you hadn’t noticed.” He flicked his hair from his face, Harry looking around. There were still students walking around, but a lot of them were out in the villages for the weekend.   
  
   Harry turned back, realising that Snape was quite right. Alright, maybe he was being paranoid? But he was still getting the feeling that Snape didn’t wish to be alone with him. For now, he’d let it slip, but he’d get answers sooner or later.   
   “Alright, then, Professor, let’s go. But please don’t make me eat any of Hagrid’s food… it’s awful,” he muttered, though sympathetic for his friend. Hagrid really couldn’t cook worth squat.   
  
   Snape kept back a chuckle. Yes, he was quite familiar with Hagrid’s cooking. He often brought things to the staff room which hardly anyone touched. In his case, it was fine, he rarely took things from others, but the others weren’t as honest, and he gathered they didn’t wish to hurt Hagrid’s feelings. Their own fault, really. They should just be honest and tell Hagrid that normal witches and wizards couldn’t stomach… literal rock cakes.     
   “I’m not promising anything,” he muttered. Although Hagrid did make a nice cup of tea. The both of them set their way towards Hagrid’s cabin, which rather surprised the half-giant as he was sitting outside by the fire, Fang beside him.  
  
   Immediately, Fang jumped up with a loud bark, running towards the both of them. Snape just dodged the dog before he came hurtling towards Harry, licking his hand. Harry cringed at the slobber that was now covering him.   
   “Augh, Fang!” he groaned, flicking his hand. Snape kept walking, but he did notice an amused look on the man’s face. Damn bastard was enjoying this. Harry continued walking, pushing the large boarhound from him until he met Hagrid.  
  
   “Hullo Harry,” Hagrid smiled, standing up from the step. He nodded to Snape. “What brings the two of yer down ‘ere today?” Fang returned by his side.   
  
   “We wanted to know if you’d like to join us for lunch,” said Harry with a smile on his face. Hagrid gave the both of them a rather curious look. Mostly Snape, not him. “We thought it might be quiet here, you know… with all the stuff that’s going on around the castle. I don’t really want to go outside of Hogwarts.”   
  
   Hagrid gave a gruff nod, though trying to hide his blush. “Well, come on ‘round back, I got plenty o’ space back ‘ere where no one will see yers.”   
  
   “We’re not afraid of being seen,” Snape muttered, his eyes going flat. “We just don’t wish to be provocative.”   
  
   Right. Hagrid kept back a laugh, but he led them around the back. “I’ll go inside an’ make yer some tea. Got some cakes, too.”  
  
   Harry just nodded, trying not to hurt Hagrid’s feelings. There was a bench out the back in the sunlight, and he and Snape took a seat on opposite sides of one another. He had to admit, it felt awkward and strange for them to be doing this, and he knew Snape was feeling the same way as well. But he couldn’t help there was some other reason why Snape mentioned Hagrid’s hut…   
  
   Sitting, Severus put his arms down, his hands into his lap. The wooden table was filthy with outside grime. He should have just stayed in his office, but he supposed a little sunlight wouldn’t kill him. It wasn’t like he’d completely evaporate or burn like a vampire.     
  
   Looking awkwardly around, Harry couldn’t understand how they liked each other and yet had absolutely nothing to talk about. When he was alone and thinking of Snape, his whole mind was full of curious questions, but as soon as he was alone with him—despite Hagrid—everything just disappeared. Plus, he didn’t want to get into an awkward argument over something like his mother.   
   “Are you always this quiet?” he asked, Snape’s dark eyes piercing his own ones as he said so. The look in his eyes was saying he wasn’t impressed, but it was just a simple question.   
  
   “Sorry, Potter, I just have my mind on other things,” said Snape. He put his hands onto the table, despite it being dusty. “What are you doing over Christmas?” he asked casually, his hands linking together.   
  
   Harry shrugged. “I dunno yet. I think Ron and the Weasley’s are going over to Romania again. And I think Hermione is going to Australia to…” He stopped, not knowing if Snape actually knew of the events they’d gone through to keep their families safe. “Well, she’s going to meet with her parents again.”  
  
   “You needn’t lie to me, Potter,” said Severus, unamused. Had the boy forgotten he was gifted with Occlumency already?   
  
   The Gryffindor felt his cheeks blush a little. “Sorry, sir, I just didn’t want Hermione to get into trouble for what she did.”  
  
   “I’m well aware what others had to do to keep themselves and their families protected whilst the Dark Lord was in power.”   
  
   Harry looked down. “Professor?”  
  
   “What?”  
  
   Why was he being so snappy? He’d taken the damn offer to have lunch with him, so why was he acting like such an arsehole at the moment? Harry couldn’t help but grow very angry. Snape wasn’t even looking at him now.   
   “Okay, I might not be able to read minds like you can, but what the hell is wrong with you? It doesn’t take a genius or a Slytherin to know that you’re being more snippy than usual.”  
  
   Severus shot the boy a glare, but it soon faded. “Potter, I’m putting you in grave danger,” he said. There was no point in keeping it inside, not with the Death Eaters on the move. And there was no point in sugar coating it, either. “We should not see each other anymore.”   
  
   What!? This horseshit again!? “What do you mean?” Harry asked. Surely this wasn’t more bullshit crap that wasn’t even an issue. He was getting rather annoyed with this. Snape clearly liked him back, but it seemed like it was all so hard on him for some mysterious reason.   
   “Why do you keep doing this?” he asked, this time his voice getting louder. He was tired of Snape’s secrecy. Their magic was so strong together, and he could feel the other man’s against his. He protected him, he liked him back, hell, he may even _love_ him back, but… Why now? Again?   
  
   Severus turned away, looking at the things growing in Hagrid’s ‘yard’. “Potter, it is no secret that I clearly do have some form of emotion for you, but my main goal is to protect you. Being romantically involved with you simply does the opposite in what I am striving to achieve. By having this relationship, I am putting you in potential danger, and I cannot have that.”   
  
   “So… so you came down here to have lunch with me to breakup with me!?” Harry asked, shocked and hurt. They couldn’t just ‘breakup’, their magic was bonded! If they didn’t date, then they’d both get horribly frustrated and even potentially lose their minds from the desire and not giving in!   
  
   Snape grabbed the paper that Harry had put on the table. “These Death Eaters will seek revenge on not only me, but you, too! Stop looking at the smaller picture and look at the greater one! They will take what I hold dear to me. That means you, Potter! You defeated their master, and even though some Death Eaters are cowards, I was the worst betrayer of them all. To them, my death is a prize to be won.”   
  
   “I can look after myself!” Harry protested, standing up and putting his hands onto the table. “I’m not weak, Professor, and I’m not going anywhere. As long as I’m here at Hogwarts, I’m safe! And so are you!”  
  
   “Don’t be so stupid, Hogwarts is nothing without Albus Dumbledore. Look at your Godfather, he managed to slip past Dementors, Animagus or not! Hogwarts is not as safe as you think it is! The trees in this Forest speak! Such a safe place: a home to giant spiders, snakes, centaurs and werewolves,” Snape said sarcastically, resting a hand against his forehead. He didn’t want this any more than Harry did, but he was used to life being unfair. He could take it, just like he did when Lily left him for James.   
   “I made a promise years ago, Harry,” he said, standing from his seat. “I made a promise that I would protect you. If I gave into my own selfish needs, it would only cause the loss of you. I would rather see you live a long and healthy life far away from me than a short one filled with fear from being hunted like a boar.”  
  
   Harry shook his head. He wouldn’t let Snape do this! They’d been through enough! He grabbed the man’s arm, pulling him over the table roughly, much to Snape’s detest. “Don’t do this! Please, Severus! We’re at Hogwarts! I don’t care what you say! I don’t care if you don’t talk much! I don’t care if you’re snarky and sarcastic, a Slytherin! I don’t care about any of that! I like you for all of those things! I promise we’ll be safe here! Just don’t leave me!” Everyone else he loved had gone. He couldn’t stand another one being lost!  
  
   Tugging his arm back, Severus hated hearing the hurt in Harry’s voice. He was a teenager. He was too young for him anyway. Even if the wizarding world had different morals and customs, what would happen when they went back home? Hogwarts was more a home than Spinner’s End and Privet Drive, but they still had to live as Muggles after school ended.   
   “Potter, you must realise that Death Eaters are very cruel, simple-minded people. They will risk their own lives in getting revenge or serving the Dark Lord, even after death. I am not trying to hurt you on purpose, I am trying to keep you safe. Now that more have been captured, they will wish to fulfil their mission as soon as possible.”   
  
   “You’re trying to protect me by breaking my heart!?” Harry asked, sitting down with a thump. Now he knew what Ginny felt like when he’d broken up with her. But his and Severus’ relationship was real! He just felt so lost and… angry!   
   “Fine… go. I don’t want to see you ever again!” he yelled sharply, though his voice full of emotion.    
  
   Snape knew Harry was just emotional at the moment, and it decayed his insides to know that he was the cause of such a reaction. “Harry, please understand I am doing this for us. For you. Not for Lily Evans, Albus Dumbledore or myself… but for _you._ ”  
  
   “Fine then, whatever. Just go!” Harry yelled, green eyes fierce and watery as they pierced the dark brown ones. Snape didn’t look at him harshly, in fact, his expression was rather dull. He obviously wasn’t putting up any fight to not show his emotions now.  
   He could see Hagrid out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t take his eyes from the Slytherin. He wouldn’t allow him to win. To let him know how hurt he truly was by this.   
   He got that Snape was trying to protect him, but they were at Hogwarts! He didn’t _need_ protecting! Well, that’s what he thought before a harsh splatter of red slapped him across the face.  
   Harry’s eyes went wide, his glasses covered in blood as he saw Professor Snape look down at himself, an arrow having pierced his chest.   
  
   Feeling blood ooze from his lips, Severus looked down at the arrow head that stuck out of him, his hands coming up in shock and confusion, going to touch it. The pain came rushing through his nerves, and he slumped to his knees in the grass, unable to do anything else.  
  
   “Professor!” Harry yelled. He saw Hagrid rush somewhere behind him, a shadow from the Forbidden Forest fleeing. He didn’t see who it was, but angry and scared, he ran after them, bolting down after them. He could see Hagrid’s booming figure rushing after them, yelling for him to go back to Snape.  
   Stopping, his heart pounded into his ears, seeing Snape slump to the floor on all fours before falling down onto his side. Immediately, he ran back to the professor, grabbing him into his arms and pulling him into his lap.  
   “Professor—Severus… Please don’t let go! Please! Not again! I won’t lose you again!” he yelled, feeling tears starting to well in his eyes. Snape was panting, and Harry was careful not to touch the arrow in his chest or back. It looked horrible. Blood was against his coat, and Harry smudged his glasses ‘clean’ so he could see the man.   
   “Someone help!” he yelled, grabbing his wand and sending out red sparks so someone could come and see.   
  
   Shaking, Severus could taste the blood in his throat, looking up. It all felt too familiar, like in the Boathouse when Nagini had attacked him. But this time it was so much harder. He’d been so ready to let go then. But not this time. He had something worth fighting for. Harry and he had come to have feelings for one another. It wasn’t just him trying to protect Harry anymore, but he’d come to care for him so much more. Curse his stupid magic! Life really wasn’t fair! He finally had someone, and now he was being torn away from them—even if he was breaking up with him mere seconds ago.   
   Lifting a hand, he cupped Harry’s cheek into his own, getting blood on it. “Harry Potter…” he whispered, groaning from the pain and choking on his own blood that was making its way up his throat and into his mouth, “I… I’m sorry I treated you so horribly.”  
  
   “Shh, don’t. Please don’t,” Harry whispered, touching Snape’s pale face, seeing McGonagall running her way down with a few of the other professors. “You’ll be okay! I promise. Please… please don’t die on me.” He would not have him saying any last words to him. Not now!  “They’re coming. You’re not alone, I swear.”  
   Hearing large footsteps come out of the Forest from behind him, Hagrid came close, the other teachers (and students spectating) arriving and rushing in to see what had happened. Some of the students were gasping in horror to the scene. Hagrid dropped something, and the other professor’s ran up close to whatever it was. Harry suspected the Death Eater.   
  
   Minerva went pale in shock. “Hagrid, get Severus to the hospital wing immediately!” she said, the half-giant slipping Snape easily into his large arms. “All students, return to the castle immediately! It’s not safe out here!”   
  
   “Augh…!” the Potions master writhed in pain as he was moved, his hand slipping from Harry’s face. His vision was getting blurry and spotted now, and he felt cold, besides the open wound that was going from back to front. That was throbbing, hot and raw.   
   Within seconds, he could feel he was shaking violently and losing blood—again. Damnit, why did he have to be the one to suffer all the time? He just wanted it gone. He didn’t like pain. He hated it! He’d tolerated so much of it, but Merlin, how he hated suffering.   
  
   “Sorry, Professor, I’ll have yer in the comfort of Madam Pomfrey in a bit,” the half-giant said, worry on his face as he looked to McGonagall who ushered him to hurry.  
  
   Harry stood, running to be with Hagrid and Snape. It all happened so fast, he didn’t even know if Hagrid had caught the Death Eater in the Forest, he just suspected. He didn’t care right now. He just cared for Severus, and he followed them hurriedly to the hospital wing.   
  
   “P-Potter…?” Snape said with a pained gurgle as he was nestled into the Gamekeeper’s arms. This also felt horribly familiar. It wasn’t the first time Snape had been in Hagrid’s arms here at Hogwarts.   
   After being picked on from James and Sirius, it was Hagrid who had comforted him when he’d lost Lily. Snape may have been snappy about it back in the day, but he had been more than grateful for Hagrid being there for him—even if he was friends with James Potter. Hagrid had always been nice to him. Annoying. Acted like a child sometimes. Was terrible at keeping secrets, but the giant oaf was a good man. A good friend.   
  
   “It’s al’ight, Professor, I got yer. Harry’s right here with yer,” said Hagrid, walking as hurriedly as possible to the hospital wing.   
  
   “I never… thanked you…” Severus whispered, but the pain was too much, and he felt his eyes flutter shut and everything went dark once more.   
  
   Harry’s heart sank, worry heavy in his chest. He had no idea what Snape was talking about when thanking Hagrid, but he didn’t question. He just kept alongside the Gamekeeper as he headed into the hospital wing.   
   Immediately, Madam Pomfrey came rushing out. She grabbed a few bottles, unable to lay Severus in the bed with an arrow sticking out of his back. She scanned his body with her wand, checking what the situation was.  
   “Oh, dear, it’s gone right through his heart and lung…” she informed, both Harry and Hagrid sharing a horribly worried glance. “It’s been dosed in venom as well.” Luckily, Severus had given her some of the anti-venoms he’d been collecting.   
  
   Hagrid felt Harry lean into him, sniffing quietly. He placed a large hand on Harry’s shoulder and took him. “It’s gunna be okay, Harry… Madam Pomfrey’s gunna make ‘im all better.” He got a worried look from the medi-witch, but he had full faith in her healing abilities.   
  
   Soon enough, McGonagall came rushing in, asking what had happened. Hagrid sputtered to tell her (probably worried), but Harry told her firmly what had happened, wiping the tears from his eyes as Snape was now being undressed in privacy for Madam Pomfrey to remove the arrow from the crossbow that had struck him.   
   “You got him, right? The Death Eater! He’s going to go to Azkaban, right!?” he said, desperate to hear that the person who did this had been caught. First Nagini, then the Dark Mark being torn from him, and now Death Eaters were after him? No wonder Snape didn’t go outside! Everything out there wanted a piece of him!   
  
   “Rest assured, Potter, he’s been captured. Hagrid, you did a great job on knocking him unconscious and bringing him back. Thank you.”  
  
   “It wasn’ me, professor, thank the Centaurs fer trippin’ him with those ropes o’ theirs.”   
  
   “I shall. The Ministry of Magic has been sent an owl, and they will be here as soon as possible. Right now, he’s being held in my office by the other members of staff.”   
  
   Harry felt a hot sensation of pleasure hit his gut at knowing the bastard who did this would be suffering in Azkaban for the rest of his life. Good for nothing Death Eater. He hoped he rotted in Hell for what he’d done!  
   When the curtain was drawn, all three of them looked up, Snape bandaged around the chest. Madam Pomfrey had reduced the arrow with her wand before pulling it out so it wouldn’t cause further haemorrhaging and given the man a few different potions, topped with the anti-venom. Snape had been smart and correct with his actions. Harry couldn’t help but think this was all his fault.   
   If Voldemort hadn’t of known about Snape… the Death Eaters wouldn’t have either. They wouldn’t have known Snape’s loyalties, the good in him. But in a moment of thinking Snape would die from Nagini’s bite, he wanted his soul to be cleared. He deserved the truth to be set free. He couldn’t stand the thought of an innocent man spending the rest of his life in Azkaban. And a life in hiding wasn’t really a life at all.   
   “Can I stay with him?” he asked Madam Pomfrey, walking over to the side of the bed and leaving Hagrid’s hand that had been on his shoulder.  
  
   “Severus is going to need lots of rest, Potter,” informed the witch, “You may stay with him for a while, but he will not wake. His heart is weak, and the potions need time to work.”  
  
   “He’ll survive, though… won’t he?” Harry’s voice was soft, but it was desperate. He would not have Severus dying on him. Not after all they’d been through.   
  
   Madam Pomfrey was uncertain. Even with potions, the heart was very sensitive, even in the wizarding world. “I’m afraid only time will tell, Potter. But he’s stable, and that’s a good sign,” she said, patting him gently on the shoulder. “I cannot give him more potions in fear of an overdose. The rest is up to his body.”   
  
   Harry sat down on the chair provided, his eyes glistening as he gently took Snape’s uncovered arm, linking their fingers as he looked to the topless man in the hospital bed. He could feel his magic strong against Snape, but Snape’s was faint, as if hardly even present. It worried him, making him grip the hand tighter, the Dark Mark present and pale up his naked arm.   
  
   Minerva patted Hagrid on the arm when she heard a thick sob come from him. “Go sit down, Hagrid. I will check in later.” She had business to tend to with the Death Eater they’d captured and sweeping the grounds.   
  
   Hagrid wiped his eyes down, unable to stop his emotions. If anything, he was overly sensitive and he was worried for Harry, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like Severus either. He’d trusted him as long as Dumbledore had, and he’d looked out for him when he was a kid here at Hogwarts. He was bitter, sharp tongued, and sometimes cruel, but that didn’t mean Hagrid didn’t trust him or understand why he’d turned so cold.  
  
   “Why did he thank you, Hagrid?” asked Harry, fighting back his tears as he moved closer to the bed to take Snape’s arm—as if the magic would make him get better quicker. He knew Snape hadn’t been thanking Hagrid for carrying him here, it was something else. Something both of them hadn’t told him about.   
  
   Hagrid wiped his eyes down on his thick sleeve. Snape obviously hadn’t told Harry much about his childhood, but he supposed he couldn’t blame him. Sure, Hagrid didn’t like when Snape turned on the Potter’s and became a Death Eater, but he’d tried to protect them and came back in the end. He couldn’t really blame Snape for acting out as a kid. Not when he was such an easy target for the popular kids here at Hogwarts.   
   “When yer father an’ Professor Snape were at school, yer know—“ He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I think maybe that’s best fer when Professor Snape’s woken up,” he said. Usually he’d be more than willing to come out accidently about something—and he almost had—but this was Snape’s life. He didn’t want to make Severus hate Harry just because he accidently told him something of his past.   
  
   Harry guessed it, though. “You looked out for him, didn’t you, Hagrid? Maybe not openly, I can’t imagine Snape, even as young, coming to you, but… I know what you’re like, and I know how much you care. You helped him.”   
  
   Hagrid felt more tears welling up in his eyes behind his bushy hair. “He was so small an’ thin an’… I couldn’ jus’ let yer father pick on ‘im. As much as I loved yer mum an’ dad, o’course. Bu’…”  
  
   “I know,” Harry said, giving a gentle smile and looking down at the sleeping adult Snape, his hair stuck to his face as Madam Pomfrey hadn’t cleaned all the blood from him. “He’s worth it.”


	26. The Muggle Way

Chapter Twenty Six: The Muggle Way.        
   
   It had been two days, and Snape hadn’t woken up yet. He was still stable, and was now dressed in a pair of more comfortable hospital pyjamas. Fawkes was sitting on the bedside table, but like before when Snape was injured, the bird didn’t cry.  
   Harry was annoyed at this. Snape’s wounds were healing slowly because of the venom and the severity, but the worst part was his heart. It was terribly weak, and Madam Pomfrey had told him that even when he did wake up, he wouldn’t be able to do much of anything until his heart was stronger. With the limits of potions to a body, she had done pretty much all she could.  
   The Death Eater had been interrogated and was being put on trial for his actions. Harry had been invited to go and watch, but he wanted to stay here with Snape in case he woke up. So far, there was nothing, but he had hope.   
   Ron and Hermione had come down yesterday to check with him. He filled them in on everything that had happened, and Ron was starting to let go of his detest towards Snape now. Hermione was horrified about the whole thing, and of course saying that Harry was lucky he was alive as well, as well as himself. She also lectured him heavily about the danger he was in.   
   McGonagall was furious that someone had come onto the grounds, and they were regularly being patrolled by Aurors and the professors now, as well as other security measures.   
   Giving Fawkes a gentle pat, he sighed gently as he watched Severus sleep. “Why can’t you give him your tears, Fawkes? It would make things so much easier. And quicker…” he said, Fawkes nibbling gently at his fingers as if to apologise.   
   Turning back to Snape, he took the man’s hand into his own, as if trying to urge his magic to make the other wizard wake up. He was breathing gently, but there was no sign of movement. He wondered if Severus even knew he was here.   
   His attention was soon drawn from the professor when Madam Pomfrey entered.  
  
   The witch walked over to her patient and took her wand out, taking a scan of Severus’ body. “He’s still stable, Potter. No change, though. The phoenix still isn’t doing anything?”  
  
   “I’m afraid not,” Harry murmured, giving Fawkes an agitated look. “How long do you think he’s going to have to stay when he wakes up?”   
  
   “Well, if the phoenix is being stubborn, then he’s going to have to heal the old fashioned way, Potter. I can’t give him any more potions as is could potentially damage his heart or give him an overdose. Even in the wizarding world, things like that can be very dangerous to use on such a vital organ. I’m afraid Severus is going to be in here until his body starts cooperating with him in the Muggle fashion. I would have preferred he been sent to St. Mungos, but moving him there just isn’t an option. It’s too far, and any use of his magic can cause further damage.”  
  
   Snape was going to hate this, Harry knew it. He wasn’t fond of people looking after him and keeping him places he didn’t wish to be. He knew the professor was going to be forcing himself up and around, like he was perfectly fine when he wasn’t. The wizard was stubborn and didn’t like to show any sign of weakness. It actually reminded him of himself a little.  
  
   “I’m sure the Headmistress is finding a replacement professor for his classes. Stress will have to be reduced as much as possible when he wakes. Movement will be limited for a while, too. He will have to have someone taking care of him if he wishes to return to his quarters.”   
  
   “I’ll do it,” Harry said almost too quickly.  
  
   “Potter, you are no way near qualified to do something such as that. Severus is a handful when he’s displeased. You also have classes.”  
  
   “I don’t care,” said the Gryffindor, watching her, “I want to. I can take my homework there, keep him company. I can get his class reports and bring them to him. I can look after him…”  
  
   Madam Pomfrey shook her head. “It is not my decision, Potter. The Headmistress will have to agree to it. You know very well I would prefer him to stay here without the option of St. Mungo’s.”   
  
   At that moment, McGonagall had just entered the room. She couldn’t help but give a raise of the brow at Harry attempting to look after Severus. “Potter, I don’t know if that is such a good idea,” she worried.  
  
   “My magic can help him. It did before with his arm,” he said almost desperately. Both of the witches looked at him. “It’ll only be when he’s moved. I won’t get in your way, Madam Pomfrey, I promise.”  
  
   McGonagall looked at the medi-witch before turning her attention back to Harry. “If Potter thinks he is up to taking care of Severus, then he can, by all means, try to. Considering that the school has gone rather hush on your relationship, I can’t see it being too much of a problem. But if I see your grades are starting to be effected, I will be pulling you out immediately, Potter. Is that clear?”  
  
   Harry nodded. “Yes, Professor,” he said. He shouldn’t exactly be happy about the situation, but he was more than happy to look after Snape. Besides, he owed him with all the protection Snape had given him over the years.   
  
   “Is there any change, Poppy?” asked McGonagall, the med-witch shaking her head.   
  
   “I’m afraid not.” She walked over to the side of the bed. “Sorry, Potter, you will have to leave while I change his dressing and give him a quick wash,” informed the medi-witch.   
  
   Frowning, Harry looked at Snape all clothed up under the warm winter sheets. They’d been intimate, and yet… he had no idea what Severus looked like underneath that buttoned-up shirt. He’d seen when the bandage was on, but that was it. He’d seen scars here and there, from Nagini, and from other things he didn’t know about.  
   He wanted to know so much more about the man. He wanted to know all about his childhood. Even if it was tough to get through. He wanted to be there for Snape. He wanted to be able to hold him, to touch him, to wake him, to sleep next to him and wake up next to him in the mornings.   
   He hadn’t realised how much he truly did care for Snape until a few days ago. Until now, really, when he thought he could lose him. With Nagini, Snape was still just a professor. A traitor to Dumbledore. But someone he couldn’t just leave for the dead. And then after finding out about the truth, there was so many things he wanted to know. So many things he wanted answered.  
   But now? Watching as Snape lay asleep, he just wanted to be with him. Let him know that it was all going to be okay. That he’d make it out of here alive. That he… loved him. How a crush on the man a few months ago had turned into such strong devotion, he had no idea. He hadn’t even felt this with Ginny—not that he expected to with being influenced by a potion. This was so much more, though. This was real.   
   “I can help,” he offered, eyes turning to the two witches. “I mean… it’s not like he’s got anything I haven’t seen before,” he said, his face burning. It was a lie, considering he actually hadn’t seen anything, but they didn’t know that.  
  
   “I’d rather… you didn’t… Potter.”   
  
   Harry turned, green eyes wide as Snape’s eyes were part way open, weakly looking at him. “Sev…” he whispered hopefully. He was about to throw himself onto the man before realising how bad that might actually be.   
  
   Snape swallowed dryly and painfully. His chest was horribly sore, and he felt like all the magic and blood had been drained from him once more. There was something very soothing about waking up to those gentle green eyes, though.   
   Immediately, Poppy Pomfrey was by his side, scanning him and asking how he felt. He didn’t wish to talk as it hurt so much, and he was horribly tired. Even though being asleep for two days, he still felt like he could sleep forever.   
  
   “He’s going to need rest, Potter. And dinner is going to be ready soon,” said the Headmistress. “You best head off, take a bath and get yourself looking presentable to your peers. You still have homework to do, too.”   
  
   Harry didn’t want to leave, but he felt much better knowing that Snape had at least woken up. “Can I come back after tea?”   
  
   “I’ll think on it, Potter. Now, off you go.”  
  
   Looking down, Harry smiled gently, those dark eyes meeting his once more. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”   
  
   And Snape actually believed him. He felt Harry’s hand squeeze gently onto his own before it was gone. Snape didn’t know what he felt right now, but it was good—despite feeling like utter shit. He could see Minerva giving him a smirk, but he didn’t have the strength to tell her off about it. He just closed his eyes so he didn’t have to suffer that look on her face.  
  
   Taking a step to the bed, Minerva gave a gentle sigh. “Severus, you’re a damsel in distress for the Gryffindor, I hope you know that.”  
  
   Feeling pain tighten around his heart, Severus just groaned, looking away. “Bloody… Gryffindors…” he breathed, eyes opening again. Luckily he was gifted with keeping back his emotions, and he subdued a laugh—knowing it would hurt too greatly to do so.  
   “The Death Eater…? Is he…”  
  
   “Severus, don’t strain yourself,” Minerva said gently, patting him on the hand. “He’s being trialled. When you are better, and only then, will I talk about something so stressful to your heart, alright? For now, you rest, or Poppy will have my head if I get you riled up.”   
  
   Snape just closed his eyes once more in agreement. Yes, he really felt like he could sleep for an eternity. He smiled, though, remembering the dreams he had had when he had fallen unconscious. This time, it had not been Lily he had seen at Deaths’ door, but her son, Harry Potter.   
  
*****   
   “How is he, Harry?”   
  
   To Harry’s surprise, it was not Hermione who had asked, but Ron instead. He’d made his way up to the common room after taking a quick bath. He was clean now, tossed on some new clothes and then had gone to eat dinner in the Great Hall where he sat with his friends.  
   To be honest, he didn’t know how Snape was. He looked like he was in terrible pain. But he was awake, and that was better than nothing.   
   “He’s awake, but I don’t really know what his condition is,” he stated, “Madam Pomfrey said that he’s going to have to take things slow for a while. I don’t think he’ll be up and about for a while yet… not with his heart and lung being punctured like that.” At least a rib hadn’t been damaged as well.  
   The images of blood against Harry’s face instantly came back. He’d said such horrible things to him just before it had happened. Saying that he never wanted to see him again. He’d been upset, though. He never meant a word of it! He just… he just wanted Severus and him to be able to be together without Snape always feeling like they couldn’t be.  
  
   “Harry, you’re lucky you got out of there alive,” said Hermione, looking worriedly at her friend. Harry gave her a tired look, like he didn’t wish to be lectured again.  
  
   “Besides, Snape’s a bitter bastard, he’ll make it out alive. They always do,” Ron said. This time Harry looked annoyed, but he just patted him on the shoulder. “I’m just joking, mate. But you gotta admit, it’s true.”  
  
   Yeah, he knew Snape could be cruel and bitter, it wasn’t a secret. He knew this was just Ron’s way of trying to be supportive. He wasn’t expecting his friend to just roll over and say that he liked Snape. He knew Ron had a difficult time coming to terms with everything, but at least now he was starting to accept it more and get over his detest for the Potions professor.   
  
   “How long do you think he’s going to be out?”  
  
   Harry looked back to Hermione. “I dunno… classes will be too stressful for him, Madam Pomfrey said. I offered to get things for him while he’s recovering, Professor McGonagall said it was alright, as long as my grades don’t slip,” he added in quickly as Hermione gave him a worried look. She went quiet, though.   
  
   “So, this means we’re gunna have a new Potions professor, right?” asked Ron, looking up to the High Table. “Wonder who it’s gunna be…”  
  
   “I heard it’s a woman,” Hermione stated. Both Ron and Harry looked at her. “Is that a bad thing?”  
  
   “No, I suppose not, it’s… just going to be different,” Harry mumbled, feeling a bit strange about that. Even more so the fact that this woman would be going to Snape a lot to make sure classes were on schedule. That was unsettling.   
  
   Ron shrugged a little. “Maybe she’ll make things better? Surely she can’t make it as miserable as Snape, no offence, Harry,” he added. He just couldn’t stand Potions class.   
  
   Harry disregarded of the comment. “She could be worse,” he said, both Ron and Hermione turning to him. “Look at Umbridge. She was a woman…”   
  
   “That you know of,” Ron mumbled. For a moment, Harry and Ron just looked at each other before being unable to control their laughter.  
  
   Hermione shook her head, expelling an exasperated sigh. “I don’t think it matters what sex or even species they’ll be, you two. I’m sure it’ll be fine. And since Professor Snape’s unfit to teach, then we’ll have to all stick through it. Let’s just hope she makes it enjoyable and not worse.”   
  
   The girl was right, and both Harry and Ron returned to their dinners. After they ate, Hermione had been correct, it was a woman, and she was introduced by McGonagall to the school as a substitute whilst Snape was revering his wounds.  
   Harry had noticed that there were less people whispering and snickering behind his back now. Suddenly things had become quite serious to others, and since Snape was in the hospital wing, it clearly made them realise that their snickering and teasing wasn’t any good on the situation. Especially if Snape wasn’t meant to get stressed out. Lord knew the man was always pissed off about something.   
   It was soothing in a way, but it did anger Harry in another. It took Snape getting attacked by a Death Eater for rumours and whispers to stop. Then again, what else could he really expect from a bunch of teenagers?   
   He was just happy that it was much quieter—despite the reasons why. He felt better knowing that at least the students seemed to care. No one really liked Snape (except the Slytherin House), but it was nice to know that they knew how serious things were now. And it was great not having to hear ‘wand’ or ‘nose’ jokes getting tossed around.   
   After dinner, Harry made his way back down to the hospital wing. He figured Snape wouldn’t be moved right away. Probably when he was strong enough to walk there himself. But when he walked in, he was surprised to see McGonagall, the new professor, Darlene Desiree, and Madam Pomfrey all together—Severus propped up in the bed.  
   Why was _she_ here? Oh, right, they were probably filling her in. He made his way over.   
  
   “Welcome back, Potter,” said McGonagall. “You might as well greet your new Potions professor, Professor Desiree.”  
  
   “Temporary!” Severus hissed from the bed, dark eyes narrowing towards the group. His hand massaged his chest gently as it was still killing him. Somehow, though, the stress of a temporary professor seemed to disappear when Harry came into the room.    
  
   “Yes, temporary,” corrected the Headmistress. “Don’t worry, Severus, your position is not in danger. Professor Desiree knows quite well this is only until you are well enough to teach once more.”    
  
   The woman was thin, tall, and had dark black, wavy hair that went down to her lower back in a curly ponytail. Her lips were pouty, and she had gorgeous, gleaming blue eyes, a pastel complexion.    
   “Pleasure to meet you, Mister Harry Potter,” the woman said, her plump lips going into a very sweet and friendly smile. She took Harry’s hand and shook it. “Don’t worry, I won’t be threatening your boyfriend’s position.”  
  
   Harry went red instantly, averting his eyes. He took a look at Snape who looked like he felt just as awkward with that word being used.   
  
   “Please use the term ‘Professor’ whilst at Hogwarts,” said Minerva, “We don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, or feed the headlines.”   
  
   “And how do you know… she’s not an imposter?” Severus breathed, scepticism clear in his eyes as he looked at the woman. He didn’t like someone else moving in on his position. He knew he’d have a position here when he got better, but that didn’t mean he felt comfortable about this.  
  
   “Oh, Severus, stop being so threatened,” McGonagall scoffed, “I never thought you’d be so worried about your students.”   
  
   “No matter, I find that very sweet in a wizard,” said Desiree, flashing a smirk to the Potions master who was still in the bed. He just turned away from her, and she looked back to McGonagall, returning to their conversation beforehand.  
  
   Harry gently moved past the two, approaching the bed and sitting down. He could have rolled his eyes at what this new professor was saying. God, she didn’t even know Snape and she was already flirting with him when he looked like utter crap and needed a shower.  
  
   “You flatter me so…”  
  
   Harry looked up in surprise, Snape’s eyes on his own. Damn… he hadn’t put any kind of wall up, and he forgot Snape could read minds when he wanted to. “Sorry… you still look good when you look like crap. Does that make things better?”   
  
   Severus just rolled his eyes tiredly. It had hurt to do that, but it was out of his control. He was too weak right now to stop it from happening, and he’d been curious. Apparently he lost control over his curiosity in his weakened state.   
  
   “How are you feeling?” Harry could see on the table that there was a half empty plate and a goblet. Obviously Madam Pomfrey had made him eat something. He hadn’t touched much, but a little bit of food was better than nothing.   
  
   “Like I look, Potter.”   
  
   “Oh, come on, don’t hold that against me,” Harry mumbled. “I’d really appreciate if you didn’t read my thoughts without asking first.”   
  
   “I’d appreciate if you didn’t say I looked like shit.”  
  
   “Crap,” corrected the Gryffindor.  
  
   “Shut up.”   
  
   Harry smiled, and he saw Snape look back at him, his features loosening. “I’m glad you’re feeling a bit better.” He wanted to brush the hair from Snape’s face, touch him, kiss him, hold him, but he knew he shouldn’t do any of those things. And to be honest, with McGonagall and Desiree here in the room, he didn’t want to fuel the fire.   
   “Can I get you anything? You haven’t eaten much… Maybe some water?”   
  
   Snape’s frown quickly reappeared. “I’d prefer to be in my quarters…” he noted. He hated having to stay in the hospital wing. It was a downright pain in the arse. It was cold, uncomfortable, and had way too many horrible memories of his childhood.   
   Fawkes, who was keeping him company (by the bird’s own choice), didn’t make anything better, either. He was downright pissed off that the bird wouldn’t help him. He looked all innocent and soft, his plumage fluffed up. Damn bastard bird! One single tear and he could be healed! Why the fuck wouldn’t he cry for him!? Cry for Potter, fine. When it comes to him? _Twice!_ Nothing. He was about ready to strangle him—if wouldn’t hurt so much to move. Just breathing hurt!   
  
   As Madam Pomfrey came over to check on Severus, Harry turned over his shoulder to see McGonagall and Desiree talking. The new professor had a knack for flirting it seemed, and it was even making McGonagall awkward, a blush going across her face. Dear lord, he wanted her nowhere _near_ Snape! He’s heard whispers of her being part Veela, which just made everything worse.   
   “Madam Pomfrey?” he asked, the witch looking at him, “Do you think Professor Snape could return to his quarters tonight? You said that his heart shouldn’t be stressed. I think he’d prefer to be in his own bed tonight.”  
  
   “Potter, Severus needs a lot of rest. Moving him may cause strain to his heart,” said Poppy, looking down at the Slytherin. In his weakened state, it was clearly hard for him to hide the emotions he’d usually cover with ease. She saw disappointment flicker across his face.  
   Sighing, she stood up straight, folding her arms. “If you would be less stressed in your quarters, Severus… then I will grant you this wish. But you must have Potter there with you. I’m afraid that without my constant supervision, the boy’s magic will be safest to have around, just in case. It should have a soothing effect on you. You will also have to agree to a heart rate monitor.”  
  
   A heart rate monitor? Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion. He didn’t think Hogwarts had things like that. “Like a device?”   
  
   “It’s not exactly a device, more a spell,” said the witch. “It will alert me if Severus’ heart beats irregularly, and I will be on my way to the dungeons immediately.”  
   Poppy Pomfrey looked back down to her patient. She didn’t want to do this, but she swore an oath to protect her patients, and if this was what would make Severus less stressed, then it would be the best for him. There was no way he’d get transported to St. Mungo’s with ease, and she had a feeling they could do nothing more than anyone else. Harry was really the only option.   
   “Do you agree?”   
  
   “Anything to get me… away from here,” Snape said, swallowing dryly.   
  
   Poppy sighed once more. “Potter, go and get that wheelchair,” she ordered, pointing to the chair that was across the room.  
  
   Immediately, Harry stood and went to the wheelchair, rolling it over. It was old looking, incredibly old looking. He honestly didn’t think it would even support someone. It looked like one of those old hospital ones you’d see in a 50’s movie. He was actually surprised Hogwarts even had wheelchairs.   
  
   “Using spells on you will be limited. Levitation or any kind of charms or spell to your body may cause more stress to your heart with what I’ve already done for you, so you’re going to have to do this the Muggle way,” said Poppy. “Potter, help him up.”   
  
   “Poppy, I can handle-,”  
  
   “I said that Potter will help you, unless you wish to stay here and not move at all?” snapped the medi-witch.  
  
   “Better do what she says, Sev,” Harry smirked, Snape’s eyes narrowing in his direction. By now, Minerva and Darlene had stopped chitchatting and were by the bedside, ready to help if needed. Although Harry didn’t really like the idea of the new professor helping at all.  
  
   Severus, who was attempting to look stronger than he was, went to push himself up, but winced as pain throbbed hard in his chest, tightening. He bit back a cry of pain, his hands clenching tightly as he tried to push himself through it.  
  
   “Stop, stop, stop!” Madam Pomfrey ordered. “This isn’t going to work, you’re in too much pain. I cannot risk it causing further damage, and I cannot give you any more potions.”   
  
   “Cock-and-bull,” Severus groaned, trying to control his breathing. “Potter, get over here.” He was not spending his time getting better here again. He’d been stuck here for too long the last few months.   
  
   “Fawkes, if you’re not going to cry, can you at least help us carry him?” Harry asked the phoenix, knowing that he wasn’t strong enough to lift Snape by himself. Snape wasn’t exactly a burly man, but he was still taller than Harry. The bird gave a curt nod of the head before flapping over and landing on Severus’ stomach.  
  
   “Bloody bird,” Snape hissed in detest. If it wasn’t humiliating enough having an old witch and a young boy helping him up? Now a friggen bird?   
   For a large bird that could carry immense loads, Fawkes was actually as light as a feather, and he painlessly made his way up to Severus’ shoulder.  
  
   Harry took one of Snape’s arms while Madam Pomfrey got the other, slipping themselves underneath his arms so they could hold him up. Fawkes easily took most of the weight, his wings flapping gently as the professor was lifted to his feet.  
  
   Snape’s jaw clenched tight as he was picked up, breathing heavily (and painfully) as his chest tightened. The warmth of Harry against him was soothing, though, and he was more than happy to be seated in the wheelchair—even if uncomfortable.  
   He hated being seen like this. He felt weak and humiliated. He’d put those days behind him, of being a little boy, crying from the torment and pain. He was stronger than that, damnit! But this made him feel awful about himself, like he were that child again. He didn’t want or _need_ others looking after him or giving him sympathy!    
  
   “Are you alright, Severus?” Poppy asked, gently feeling his chest.   
  
   “Fine,” the man breathed, looking away. “Just get me to the dungeons.” Fawkes flapped his wings and landed on Harry’s shoulder.   
  
   “Do I need anything?” Harry asked.   
  
   “Just make sure he eats and that he drinks plenty of water. He will need as much rest as possible. No walking around. If you need to use the bathroom, Potter will have to assist you. And no shower. A bath only, if anything. You cannot be on your feet for at least a few more days. If you’re going to toss some clothes on, then something light. None of that heavy wool. I will be monitoring you, and I will come for daily check-ups three times a day. No magic, and no potions. The bandage has already been made waterproof.”  
  
   Just bloody great. He’d hold it in if he needed to. He wasn’t having Potter help him do anything in the lavatory. He most certainly wasn’t helping him take a bath! That was just… no. In a relationship or not, the two of them hadn’t even bloody seen one another fully nude. He was very self-conscious about himself as well. Hell, the only reason he’d given in so willingly was because of their damn magic influencing them. Of course he wanted it, but… he was much more reserved and in control than that!  
  
   “I will also be putting a magic restrictor on you,” she stated, pulling her wand out. “This means no accidental magic, or magic at all until you are well enough.” She flicked her wand once, and a light glow went over Severus before fading away. That was the final thing she could do for him.  
  
   “Potter, good luck,” said Minerva, smiling gently before turning to Severus. “The more you rest, the sooner you will recover. No straining. I am only allowing this because of your magic. The Muggle way or not, at least it’s something.”  
   Getting her wand out, she pointed it to the chair. “This will get it up and down the stairs,” she said, muttering a spell towards the chair before returning her wand to her pocket. “Have a good night.”    
  
   Gathering everything, Harry finally took the handles of the wheelchair and turned it around. It was the first time he’d ever steered one of these things, so it was a little tricky at first, but it soon became relatively simple.  
   Severus was quiet, which worried Harry, but he was awake. He was taking it easy on some of the bumps in case it hurt, and when he arrived at the stairs, he was stuck for how the charm McGonagall had put on it would work.   
  
   “Just move it toward the step,” muttered Snape.   
  
   Harry did so, and when the front wheels touched the stone step, it instantly levitated. He kept a hold of the handles and stepped slowly down towards the dungeons as carefully as he could before the chair went back down onto the level ground.   
   Eventually, they made it into Snape’s office and into the next room. “Do you want anything from out of here before you go to bed?” he asked.   
  
   “No.”  
  
   A frown soon made its way across the Gryffindor’s face. He knew Snape wasn’t happy he was confined to bed-rest, but without being able to take potions, he had to do this the Muggle way. Actually, he was lucky he wasn’t taken elsewhere to a larger hospital. Harry was amazed sometimes how magic and potions could work on witches and wizards. If this were the Muggle world, Snape would be stuck inside a bed with tubes attached to him and a monitor.   
   Wheeling him into the bedroom, he sat the chair next to the bed. “Well, we’re here. I can help you up.”  
  
   “That won’t be necessary,” said Snape, his voice weaker than he thought. He didn’t need Potter treating him like a child, as if he couldn’t do anything himself. He was the Head of Slytherin. Former Death Eater. He could stand on his feet to get to bed.   
   Putting his hands onto the arms of the chair, he went to push himself up, stopping immediately when pain rippled through his chest and down his arms. He breathed gently, knowing Poppy would be down the second his heart-rate picked up.   
  
   “It’s okay to ask for help,” Harry said softly, not wanting to rile the man up. He knew he was feeling bad about this, but it couldn’t he helped. Harry would rather have Snape still here than die from pushing himself too hard just because he felt humiliated. He’d survived an arrow to his heart! If anything, he should be proud of himself! He gathered that was the Gryffindor way to see it, though.   
   Leaning down, he placed a hand onto Snape’s chest. “It worked for the Dark Mark, so maybe it’ll work this time as well.”  
  
   Severus looked down to the gentle hand that was on him. Immediately, he felt a sudden release flow through his body as the pain seemed to dwindle to a dull ache rather than a tight and sharp one.  
  
   “Can you stand now?”   
  
   It was smart of Potter to think of this, and Severus made a note to thank him later when he wasn’t feeling so shitty about himself. For now, he wasn’t going to say anything. He was stubborn and hated this.   
   Nonetheless, he gently and slowly pushed himself from the wheelchair. Harry moved awkwardly and slowly with his hand on his chest, but eventually he made it into the bed and relaxed against the pillows.   
  
   “I can stay here… in case you need my magic. I’m not leaving you alone tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to,” Harry stated as-a-matter-of-factly. There was no way he was letting Snape sleep here by himself tonight. He needed someone here in case something happened—even if Madam Pomfrey was keeping an eye on his heartbeat through magic.   
  
   Knowing that the young wizard wouldn’t listen to him if he said no, Severus just grunted. He wasn’t having Harry sleep in his bed. Not when he was injured. Not to mention the thought was still alien to him.    
   Fawkes gently landed into his lap, and he weakly rested his hand onto the bird’s back. For a moment, he was hopeful that Fawkes was going to cry against his chest as he moved up against him, but the pain in his heart soon told him that wasn’t the case.   
   Snape was really starting to detest the bird. “Don’t patronize me,” he weakly snapped, nudging the bird from his lap. Fawkes gave a hurt cry before flying to Harry.   
  
   Looking sadly at the phoenix, Harry didn’t know why Fawkes wouldn’t help Severus. He’d helped him continuously. Was it because he was a Gryffindor and Snape was a Slytherin? He didn’t know, but he hated that Snape was suffering. Fawkes was loyal to him, so why not cry?   
   “I’m sure there’s a reason why he’s not crying,” he tried to say knowingly, despite the fact that he had no idea why the phoenix was being like this. Fawkes just purred gently as he scratched him on the soft chest plumage.   
  
   “Yes, to make me suffer,” Severus mumbled, leaning back painfully. He winced. He needed a shower. He wanted to use the bathroom. He was _not_ making Potter help him with something that a bloody five year old could do! No, he could sleep and do it tomorrow when he was feeling stronger.   
   “If you insist on staying… transfigure the lounge into a bed,” he said. He was getting tired again from the small amount of activity he had done. With rest, though, he hoped he would be feeling much better in the morning. “There are sheets in the dresser.”  
  
   Putting Snape’s robes and wand onto the side-table, Harry left to drag in the lounge from the other room. He did a quick spell that he’d learnt in Transfiguration class and it became a single bed. Snape’s quarters weren’t luxuriously massive, but it was big enough for the bed to fit at the end of Snape’s.   
   He walked over to the only large dresser in the room and opened the large door. There were more drawers inside, but Harry figured they were for other items of clothing. He took out the Slytherin coloured sheets and put them onto his bed. He got used to cleaning up after himself and being tidy in the Dusrleys. He was made to look after himself.  
   “Do you need anything? Any water? Madam Pomfrey said to make sure you drink enough. I could get you some extra blankets if you need-,”  
  
   “Potter,” interrupted the Potions master, eyes weakly on the Gryffindor, “if I need anything… I will ask.” That wasn’t exactly true. He had no intention of making Potter run around for him. Once he was feeling better tomorrow, he could start doing his own thing. He was just weak tonight. Yes, that was all.   
   “Fawkes makes a habit of sleeping in here… you can get his perch, and then I don’t want to hear a breath from you.” He was being snippy, but he just wanted to rest and for Potter to be quiet. The boy didn’t need to fuss over him.   
  
   Not wanting to stress Snape out anymore, Harry went to fetch Fawkes’ perch and brought it in, the phoenix instantly claiming it for sleep. He blew out some of the candles that were in the room and checked that the fire was going to keep it warm in here.   
   Before he went to his own bed, he walked back up to the professor. “Severus?” he murmured gently, the dark eyes slowly opening to look at him. “I’m here if you need me.”   
  
   Harry’s green eyes were soothing, even if Snape didn’t want to admit that he was happy Harry was here with him. They hadn’t really shared time alone together for what seemed like a long time. With everything that had been going on, how could they?   
   He was too weak to hide his emotions, and so he lifted his hand and touched Harry’s cheek. “Potter, what I said before I was attacked… I only wished to keep you safe.”  It’s all he ever wanted—even if it had started out being for Lily.  
  
   Lifting his own hand to overlap the larger one, Harry nodded gently, feeling his chest flutter lightly as Snape showed affection. “I know. I’m sorry I acted so childish. I didn’t mean what I said…”   
  
   “When don’t you act childish?” Severus said, smirking, though regretting it as the movement hurt his chest as he kept back a chuckle.   
  
   Seeing the strain, Harry wished he could ease the pain. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help? I can’t do much, but at least my magic can.”   
  
   “No, you have class tomorrow. You needn’t worry about me,” Snape said. “Get to sleep.” He lowered his hand and let it fall back to the sheets. When Harry went to his own transfigured bed, he finally let himself sleep.


	27. Darlene Desiree

Chapter Twenty Seven: Darlene Desiree.     
  
   Harry stayed awake a little longer after Snape had fallen asleep. It wasn’t very late yet, so he decided to send Fawkes up to the common room, who fetched Spells and some of his school work and trunk (the bird could easily handle it). If he wanted to continue looking after Snape, then he’d have to show McGonagall that he could juggle between school and the Potions master.   
   Harry was as quiet as possible and did his work on the bed that he’d transfigured while Spells and Fawkes sat on the now shared perch. They seemed to get along, which pleased him, and he took the liberty at taking in Snape’s quarters as he never really did get a good look at everything before.   
   The rooms were comfortable sizes, not too small and not too big. Beside the bedroom there was the ensuite, and outside the study/lounge and his office. Harry had discovered another door that was on the other side of his office, but presumed it was just a cupboard or a lab for brewing. It smelled strong of potions, so he figured that’s what it was. He could ask later.   
   Of course, everything was draped in silver and green, the colours of the Slytherin house, and Harry had seen that one of the frames was off the wall. He had picked it up and turned it over. It was a snake. He wondered why it had been taken down. Was Nagini still on Snape’s mind after all this time? Then again, he was still uneasy about them from having been attacked by the Basilisk in his second year.    
   He’d returned the moving painting before heading back to bed, and eventually he fell asleep, putting his glasses on top of the books on the floor. He only woke up when he heard an odd noise.  
   Stirring, his eyes opened in the dimly lit room. The fire was still glowing, but hardly. Everything was a blur with his glasses off, but he instantly knew the noise had come from the original bed in the room.  
   Pushing himself up, he padded his way so the side of Severus’ bed, seeing sweat beaded on the older wizard’s forehead. He was heating up horribly as he squirmed beneath the sheets.   
   “Severus?” he whispered, knowing all too well what was happening. Harry was no stranger to nightmares and having Voldemort penetrate his mind through sleep. Snape was having some kind of bad dream.   
   This wasn’t good for his heart. Harry knew when he woke up; he was panting, heart palpitating within his sweat-covered chest. He pulled back the sheet to take a look at the man’s shirt. No blood, which meant it wasn’t opening the wound. That was reassuring, but not enough.   
   Another groan came from Snape, and he quickly put a candle alight. “Severus, wake up. It’s just a nightmare!” he said, his voice going louder. He placed his hand to the man’s heart, feeling it thumping beneath it, and then Snape shot up, panting hard, a sweat-covered hand clutching over his own.  
  
   For a moment, Severus was blind, not knowing where he was, his heart thumping in his head. He looked down through his dampened hair, seeing the hand on his chest—which explained why he wasn’t in severe pain right now.   
   “Potter…” he breathed, relaxing as he realised it was just a nightmare. He lowered his hand, feeling his sweaty head. Merlin, he really needed a bath.  
   And there, looking at him, was the young man’s green eyes, no glasses covering them this time. With the gentle light in the room, they really glowed, making him able to relax, even though he was humiliated to have had a nightmare in front of Harry.   
  
   “It was just a bad dream,” Harry said, feeling Snape’s heartbeat lower slowly as he came to realise what had happened. How often did Snape have nightmares? He didn’t exactly have the happiest of lives, but he was a Potions master. He figured he’d have stuff for everything down here.   
  
   Laying back down, Snape was glad Harry’s hand was still on his chest, otherwise he knew it would be painful. He closed his eyes as he caught his breath.   
   “What… is the time?”   
  
   Taking the pocket watch that was on the side-table, Harry opened it with his spare hand and brought it close to his face so he could read. “It’s quarter-past-four.” At that moment, the door opened to Severus’ office and Madam Pomfrey came rushing in.  
  
   “Severus, are you alright? I was notified that your heart-rate had spiked.” She instantly walked over and nudged Harry out of the way.  
  
   “Nn…” Snape winced as Harry’s hand was removed from his chest, the reality of pain slapping him across the torso. “I… was fine,” he muttered, “until you took Potter’s hand away!”   
  
   Poppy grabbed Harry’s arm and put his hand back onto Severus’ chest. “You’re lucky Potter is here for this. What happened?”  
  
   “Just a bad dream,” Harry said, getting the feeling that Snape didn’t want to talk about it. “A nightmare or something.”  
  
   “Potter, go get a goblet of water, he’s got the temperature of a dragon,” she stated, feeling Snape’s forehead.   
  
   “Poppy, I’m quite alright,” Severus said, the witch giving him a quick scan with her wand. He wasn’t a bloody toddler. He didn’t need anything. He winced once more as Harry’s hand disappeared.   
   When Harry returned with a goblet and his glasses on, Poppy ordered him to drink, and he obeyed, being quite thirsty. He drank slowly before giving the goblet back.   
  
   “I’m sorry, but you can’t have any more potions. No Dreamless Sleep. Potter, the moment he shows signs of an uneasy sleep, you put your hand on his chest. It seems to at least calm the pain, and in turn it might help you relax more.” She looked at Snape with her last words.   
   She was worried, and really preferred that Severus be in the hospital wing. But she knew it would stress him out and he’d be horribly fussy and bored whilst there. This was the best she could do without putting anymore strain on his heart or sending him to St. Mungo’s Hospital. Hogwarts had better security for him here as well. He didn’t need journalists hovering over him for new stories about his health and how Potter was taking this.  
  
   Harry nodded, putting the goblet back to the side-table. Severus just closed his eyes weakly, as if he didn’t want to be here anymore. He felt guilty. He didn’t want Snape to be ashamed of this, but he didn’t say anything while Madam Pomfrey was here.  
  
   After making sure Severus was alright, Madam Pomfrey put her wand back away. “I will check on you in the morning, Severus. Rest easy,” she said, patting him on the shoulder before leaving hesitantly.   
  
   Harry made sure the doors were closed before walking back into the bedroom. Fawkes stirred a little, and Spells was out for the night, hunting.    
   “Are you sure you’re alright now?” he asked, moving up to the side of the bed. “I could get you some more water.” He wanted to ask what the dream was about, but he had a feeling Snape wouldn’t tell him even if he asked politely. The man wasn’t exactly open. He wished he would be, though—especially with him.   
  
   Looking at the young man, Severus gently shook his head. “I am fine, Harry,” he said, his voice weak. “I just need rest.”   
  
   “You won’t have another nightmare?” the Gryffindor worried.   
  
   As if he knew what he’d dream about or not. Severus arched a brow. “Potter, I don’t know if you know this… but you cannot… choose what you dream,” he said sarcastically. Weak, but sarcastically.   
  
   Harry couldn’t help but grin as a little bit of the Snape he knew popped out in his weakened state. “I like when you’re sarcastic.”   
  
   Severus just turned away, his mouth twitching lightly. He felt a hand go back to his chest, soothing it, and it brought his eyes back to the Gryffindor.  
  
   “I know you don’t like being like this. I know you don’t want to be stuck in your bed all day long. And I know you want to have a bath or whatever, but you can’t just walk away from the reality of the situation. I’m just wanting to help, Professor,” said Harry.  
  
   Looking down at the hand, Snape moved his own and overlapped Harry’s. Potter was right. He didn’t like this one bit, but there was something inside him that was happy that Harry was here. It was strange, and felt almost foreign to him. He hadn’t been happy in a long time. Especially not this kind, either.   
   Sure, he was stuck in a bed, and it hurt like a bitch to actually move, but Harry was here with him. If it were anyone to look after him, he’d rather Harry to anyone else. If this had been a few months ago, he would have detested the idea, but Harry had done nothing but care for him and show compassion towards him. Although awkward, and closed-in, Severus was happy about it. He was so much like his mother.  
   “Go to sleep. You have class in a few hours,” he said, letting the hand go once more. He wanted Harry to keep it there, but there was no risking them sleeping in the same bed while he was like this. One wrong movement from Potter and he could be in a world full of pain.   
  
   Nodding, Harry leaned down, and he boldly kissed Snape on the lips, and he surprisingly felt the professor give in. When he pulled back, Snape’s eyes seemed surprised, and a little embarrassed by the look on his face.   
  
   “You shouldn’t do that…” Snape muttered as he felt his heart-rate increase from the small show of affection towards him. “You will have Poppy running back down here.”  
  
   Harry just smiled apologetically. “Good night, Severus,” he murmured, letting his hand slip away from the Potion master’s chest. He blew out the candle, took off his glasses and settled back into bed for the night. At least the kiss could give Snape something positive to think about while he slept.  
  
*****  
   In the morning, Harry was woken up by Fawkes giving a shrilling wake-up call across the room. His eyes fluttered open, blurry and confused to where he was. Oh, right, he was in Professor Snape’s quarters. He was going to have to get used to that.  
   Fawkes landed on his bed and waddles himself over his body, nudging him gently on the cheek. “Alright, I’m getting up,” he mumbled, it daylight now. Hardly, bloody hell, it was still dark in here. How the hell did Snape wake up in the morning? He supposed Fawkes did that for him.  
   Grabbing his glasses, he put them on and let the room come clearly into view, pushing his hair from his eyes. The first thing he did was check on Snape, pushing himself up to see the man on his side, hair covering his face.   
   Harry smiled. He never thought he’d ever say Professor Snape looked cute. But with his messy hair, his eyes closed and hands tucked under his chin, he looked utterly adorable.  
   “Professor? Are you awake?” he asked softly, just in case he was really asleep. Snape just made a groan in answer. He stood up quickly and moved to the bedside, Fawkes going back to his perch. Spells had made it back and was nestled into her feathers.   
   “Fawkes woke you up? You don’t need anything, do you? You know you can wake me up if you do.” He’d rather Snape did so he didn’t suffer… The man was stubborn, he knew, but still. This was his health here.   
  
   “Not even a troll could sleep through that noise,” Snape muttered, his eyes gently opening to see Harry standing there, hair a mess. “A true Gryffindor. You have a mane.” Harry’s laugh was soothing to hear.   
   “Potter, if you need anything from my room, you are welcome to use the facilities,” he said, moving his hands underneath his pillow. He felt awkward having Harry here in the morning hours, but it wasn’t the first time, and at least they were fully clothed. He just wasn’t used to sharing his quarters. Having Harry here wasn’t anything negative, it just felt different.    
  
   Having brought most of his belongings down here in his trunk last night, Harry didn’t really need to return to Gryffindor Tower. The only thing he’d really need would be the bathroom. He didn’t mind using Snape’s bathroom. Plus, he could really use a shower. Then again, so could Snape.   
   “I’ll keep that in mind. How are you feeling this morning?” he asked, sitting on the side of the bed. He noticed Snape look at him funny from the action, but they were in a relationship, and he was a little tired of having to tip toe around. He wanted the both of them to be comfortable, and the sooner he made things more intimate with one another, the sooner they could be more relaxed. Snape was going to be difficult, though. He knew that.   
  
   Moving onto his back, Severus gently pushed himself up against the pillows. “Better than last night,” he admitted. He knew he still wouldn’t be able to be active, and he’d be bed-ridden most of the next few days, but at least his heart wasn’t suffering too much this morning. Sleep did him well.   
   He really needed a bath, though. Not to mention he needed to take a leak. He hadn’t been to the bathroom all night, and it was beginning to hurt his bladder. He couldn’t just take a potion either, because Poppy had refused it. ‘The Muggle way.’ He could have rolled his eyes.   
  
   “You look a bit better,” Harry mentioned. The darkness around Snape’s eyes was definitely lighter. “But you could really use a bath,” he laughed.   
  
   Snape was well aware that his hair was oily and that he was unclean. He was usually very hygienic—despite what people said about his hair (that was only because of the cauldron fumes every day)—but considering he couldn’t really move around, he didn’t wish to need the aid of Potter.   
   “I will freshen up when you’re in class,” he noted, looking away. No way was he letting Potter take care of him like a child.   
  
   “Professor, you know you can’t manage it by yourself,” said the Gryffindor. “I know you might feel uncomfortable, even a little weird and shy, but you took an arrow to the heart. If anything, you should be happy you’re making it through this. A bath isn’t going to kill you if an arrow didn’t.”  
  
   “I don’t need your help, Potter,” Snape said harshly, looking back at him. He knew deep down that he would need the assistance if he wanted to get clean, but… something in him just couldn’t accept that. He hated seeming weak. He hated having others help him.  
  
   Although a little hurt by the outburst, Harry knew Snape was just being insecure about the whole thing. He’d probably be the same way if he were in the same situation. He didn’t want to press the man’s buttons, though, in case it caused stress.  
   “You’ve got to take a bath sometimes, Sev,” he said, his voice trying to be as calm as possible. “Would you rather I help you or Madam Pomfrey? At least my magic can help ease the pain, and… we’ve already done ‘it’ before, so I don’t see why a bath would be too horrible.”   
  
   Because even when they had had sex, they hardly saw one another’s bodies! Severus felt uncomfortable over the whole thing, but he would definitely rather Potter over Poppy. That would be even more awkward for him. At least when he was unconscious from Nagini, she could have easily used magic, and he wasn’t awake for it.   
  
   Snape went quiet as he was clearly thinking the whole thing over. “You can wear your undies, I don’t mind…” Harry suggested, “If it makes you more comfortable, I mean.”   
  
   Halving his eyes, Severus looked back at Harry. He knew he had to do this either way, and he couldn’t risk hurting himself even more. That would be even more humiliating if Poppy found him on the ground nude.  
   He mentally sighed. He didn’t want to do this! Why couldn’t that arrow have bloody killed him instead? Okay, the situation wasn’t that bad, and he and Potter _were_ in a relationship, as awkward as things were between them still.  
   “Fine,” he mumbled. “Go and get the bath started. And don’t make it too hot.” He hated when they were too hot. His skin was sensitive and it burned easily.   
  
   Harry nodded, his teeth showing as he smiled happily. He headed into the bathroom and turned the bath on. It was no way as nice as the Prefects bath, and not nearly as big, but it would certainly fit the both of them in there. Harry didn’t expect to go in, though, he was just going to help Snape have one. He’d have a bath later on.   
   When he made sure the temperate was nice and warm, he gave a quick spell for some bubblebath and the tub soon was filling with bubbles. He figured it might make Snape more comfortable if he were covered.  
   Walking back out of the bathroom, Snape was now sitting up. Fawkes had flown to him and he was idly stroking the phoenix’ back as if it were a cat in his lap.   
   “The bath should be ready soon. I’ll get you some clothes. Which drawer are they in?” he asked.   
  
   As his attention was brought back to Potter, Severus let Fawkes go. “They’re all in their respected order. Just grab something light, or Poppy may murder me,” he drawled.    
  
   Harry grinned. “Why don’t you get in the bath first? I’ll get your clothes when you’re in.” He headed over to the Potions master and Snape removed the sheets. “Do you need the chair?”  
  
   The wheelchair from last night was still beside the bed. “No, I wish to try myself,” Severus stated. He moved so his sock-covered feet touched the ground. Harry made the fire start as he wasn’t allowed to use any of his magic yet for the sake of his heart.   
   It was awkward, and Snape never wanted to speak of it again, but Harry supported him into the bathroom before leaving and closing the door so he could have some privacy. Fawkes (who had helped), decided to stay.   
   Now that he was alone, Severus gently and slowly (due to pain) undid the buttons on his shirt and slipped it off, letting it fall to the floor. He then painfully removed his pants and socks. Like Harry had suggested, he kept his trunks on, and he gently sat on the side of the tub before slipping himself in. It was awkward, as he tried not to use his arms as much as possible as it hurt his chest.  
   The water was perfect—surprisingly. Something Harry had gotten right. And it was gentle and soothing against his skin. The bandage was already waterproof, so he was able to go low in the water, the bubbles covering him.   
   When there was a knock on the door, he said, “Come in,” and Harry stepped into the bathroom with a set of fresh clothes. He grinned as he lifted the Muggle shirt that had been in his dresser for if he’d have to return to the Muggle world for any occasion while school term was on.  
   “You can’t be serious, Potter…” he said, arching a brow.   
  
   “You know, I’m surprised you even have something like this.” It was just a black T-shirt with a red undershirt attached on the inside with long sleeves. “It’s very ‘Muggle’ of you, and red for Gryffindor,” he said, smirking. Snape just looked away.   
   Seeing Severus’ body, Harry realised the marks and scars on the man’s pale skin. He walked over to the bath, Fawkes still sitting on the rim. “Not all of these were from Nagini, where they?” he asked.   
  
   Now Severus felt even more awkward. He tried to relax, and he worried that his heart might strain because he was anxious over all of this. He sank further into the bath, most of the bubbles covering him. He didn’t say anything, though.   
  
   Clearly Snape didn’t want to talk about it, and the only reason Harry didn’t press on about it was because he didn’t want him getting agitated. Instead, he walked to the back of the bath and grabbed the container of shampoo, walking up behind Snape.  
  
   “Potter, what are you doing?” the Slytherin asked, eyes following the young wizard like a hawk.   
  
   “I’m going to wash your hair.”  
  
   “No.”  
  
   “Yes,” Harry stated firmly. “I know after Quidditch practice that if I lifted my arms, it hurt my chest, which means it’ll do the same to you. I’m no doctor, but I know what muscles are attached to what, and if you lift your arms, it’s going to hurt.”   
  
   Snape grumbled to himself, hugging his arms around himself as he sat awkwardly. He felt so fucking stupid! He was a damn grown wizard! He hated the fact that he couldn’t use magic for anything. How the hell did Muggles do it!?  
  
   “Have you got any kind of bucket in here? A container? Something to put water in so I can rinse your hair?”  
  
   Snape literally wanted to kill himself right now. Nagini. The Dark Lord. Some kid trying to kill him. Merlin, he’d take it any day over today. He just wanted to crawl away and never see Potter again. He felt like a kid again. Not that his mother ever really looked after him. Not with his abusive father on her back all the time.   
   “Just summon one from the other room,” he muttered. When Harry did, the nearest jug came flying into the room, and the Harry dunked it into the water, making him move away uncomfortably.   
  
   Harry didn’t want to stay quiet, because he knew the silence would just be even more awkward for them. No, he’d rather keep Snape’s mind off anything negative and awkward. He’d need to think of something that was interesting to Snape.   
   “What do you think of the new professor?” he asked curiously. Snape didn’t seem to like her much, but that was just Snape. Turned out he liked someone even though you thought he hated them. He was hard to read like that. “Close your eyes.”   
  
   As the water came rushing down his face, Severus groaned, even though it felt nice through his unwashed hair. His scalp was itching. “Why is that important?” he asked, wiping the water from his mouth.   
  
   Harry shrugged, gently pouring another jug of water down Snape’s hair before grabbing the shampoo and putting some into the middle of his head. He ran his fingers through gently, massaging the scalp. “Well, she just seems a bit… I dunno-,”  
  
   “Appealing to be teaching such a greasy subject?” Snape asked, turning to look at Harry accusingly.  
  
   “Professor, I don’t want to hide things from you, so you can read my mind all you like, but can you at least _ask_ before you do it?” said Harry, rolling his eyes a little.   
  
   “I merely guessed. I’m not permitted to use magic, or do you have that shorter memory, Potter? The only reason I had yesterday was from pure accident.”  
  
   Harry felt a little embarrassed at that. He shouldn’t assume something so invasive of the man. He shook it off, not wanting that tension between them.   
   “Besides,” he smiled, still massaging the shampoo into Snape’s hair, “within a few hours, her hair will be just as greasy, and I’m sure she’ll look as ugly as you.”  
  
   Snape stiffened, grimacing.   
  
   Harry laughed. “I’m kidding, Sev, I think you’re adorable.” A wide smile spread from ear to ear on Harry’s face as he continued rubbing the shampoo in.  
  
   Adorable!? Snape felt utterly humiliated! His shoulders stiffened more. “Potter, you’re going to make Madam Pomfrey rush in to find me strangling you in a moment. Painful or not.”   
  
   Harry put his hands onto the man’s shoulders. Snape wasn’t bony, but he wasn’t meaty either. He was rather muscle-less, just a basic body, but Harry liked it. The only real tone on his body was just because he was a man, not because he worked out. Severus Snape was just the average wizard, just very pale in colour from lack of sunlight.   
   “I like you, Severus. I like you a lot, actually…” he said, leaning down a little. He let his hands slip down to the top of Snape’s chest where there was little hair above the bandage.  
  
   Looking down, Snape felt blood rush to his cheeks. He didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t like he could escape the touch, he couldn’t strain himself, but it wasn’t like he wanted to either. He enjoyed the gentle Seeker hands against him.     
  
   Harry could feel their magic touching (although Snape’s was very weak), dancing across the surface of his fingertips as he touched Snape’s skin. It felt perfect, soft and silky. He wanted Snape to look at him. He wanted to join the man in the tub, even if his own cheeks were starting to burn at the thought.   
   Fawkes gave a soft look to the both of them, and Harry realised why Fawkes wasn’t crying. Because of this. Because they were together. That sneaky bastard! He laughed to himself. He thanked Fawkes, though, because for the first time—in a long time—they were alone together, and they could be intimate. It didn’t mean sex, or anything like that, just together. In the same room. No one else there to spy on them.   
  
   Severus’ body instantly became relaxed by the touch of magic, despite him shying away from the affection. His nerves and anxiety somehow disappeared as he leant back against the tub. He could smell the shampoo that was still sitting in his hair. Harry was so soft against him, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want more. But he couldn’t. Not now anyway. Something that traumatic on his heart would certainly send Poppy in, and could cause further damage.   
   When Harry moved around the front of him, he was faced with those perfect green eyes of his. He didn’t know how to be affectionate, but for the sake of Harry, he almost wished he could be. It was just something so foreign to him. He could think it, yes, but when it came to real life? He just couldn’t.  
  
   “I know you’re reserved, and I think that’s something that makes me like you even more considering all the Gryffindor’s I’m used to… but do you like me just as much as I like you?” Harry looked into those dark eyes, the Potions master making no effort to look away.   
  
   He didn’t have an answer for that. Feelings were never exactly the same. They differed from person to person. Alright, that was just his logic talking, of course he liked Potter. He wouldn’t be allowing this if he didn’t like him. If this was a few months back, he’d much rather Poppy being in here washing his hair for him.   
   “I believe I would have drowned you by now if I didn’t have some kind of sentiment towards you,” he stated bluntly, seeing those eyes glimmer at that. The corner of his lip curled into a very small smirk, but soon disappeared when Harry’s lips were on his.  
   Instantly, Severus found himself surprised and unable to keep back the blood from his pale cheeks. He instantly looked back down to the bubbles that were still filling the bathtub when Harry pulled back. “You are going to be the death of me, Potter,” he said, gently kneading his chest from the rush of blood. Luckily, it wasn’t enough to bring Poppy in here.   
  
   Harry grinned gently before returning to Snape’s hair, rinsing the shampoo and conditioner out. He gave Severus a few minutes to enjoy the bath by himself before he made him get out. He had to head to breakfast soon, and then classes, and he didn’t want Snape to be getting in and out on his own. He believed he could manage a trip to the toilet if he needed it with the help of Fawkes or Madam Pomfrey when she came in.   
  
   Having gotten dressed in the Muggle clothes Harry had gotten for him (much to his despair), Severus never thought he would be this happy to return to his bed. But getting up and around just to take a bath had actually exhausted him quite so.   
   Harry had dried his hair for him the traditional way (with a towel), and even ended up brushing it while it was wet so it wouldn’t tangle and knot—as embarrassing as that was. Before Harry went to breakfast, he’d made sure everything was alright, given him a few books and supplies from his office before Poppy had come in and taken over.   
   He’d managed to take a bathroom break just before Poppy Pomfrey had ordered him to eat. He didn’t eat much, he was simply too tired to, and soon he fell asleep, clean and tidy.   
  
*****  
   Harry had returned to the dungeons throughout breaks as much as he could. Ron and Hermione had asked what had been going on, and he explained everything to them. Although he didn’t tell them that he had helped Snape bathe. He didn’t think Severus would like that, and it wasn’t something his friends needed to know. Or the nightmare.   
   He had found himself worrying quite often about the man. He wanted to ask him where he’d gotten so many scars from. He wanted to ask a lot of things. Part of him was very thankful for Fawkes for not crying and healing Snape, but part of him felt guilty about it, too. It sounded horrible to be thankful that Snape was suffering. That wasn’t the case at all. He hated that! But it gave them time together. And that he really enjoyed.  
   Classes had been uncharacteristically quiet. No one had made a sound about his and Snape’s relationship. It was odd, but it was good. It was certainly different from what he was used to, though. He figured most of the students didn’t want to upset him—which was nice to know.   
   Potions class had been strange for him—and everyone else. The new professor was just so different to Severus. Harry missed the cold, calculation and sceptical eyes of Professor Snape as he watched them brew. He missed how quiet the class was as Snape was so in control of his students. The new teacher gave everyone a chance to talk and team up with whoever they pleased. It was… different. Everyone else seemed to not mind, though.  
   Hermione had been snappy the whole lesson. Something about Professor Desiree got to her, and it got to Harry, too. All the boys in the class basically swooned over her, and she did little to prevent it from happening. She made so many of them blush it was beyond ridiculous. Then again, Hermione couldn’t talk when Lockhart had all the girls the same way in their second year. Hermione had confirmed she was part Veela.    
   It bothered Harry a lot, though, because he was worried about Snape. He had no intentions of liking this teacher in a sexual way. She was kind, but he saw through that right away. He shouldn’t have anything to worry about, but not one single guy in the class felt the same as he did, and it bothered him to think that maybe Severus wouldn’t either. If she was part Veela, she could have Snape on his knees before her. They could control men so easily. The only reason he wasn’t swooning over her like every other boy was because it made him angry enough not to.   
   Having made his way back down to the dungeons, he knocked on the door before entering. The office was silent, so he stepped through the study and into the bedroom—the door was open. To his surprise, and annoyance, Professor Desiree was sitting on the side of the bed with a very expressionless Severus.  
   Harry made his way in, wanting to throw her from the room, but he moodily dropped his bag, looking at Snape darkly. How long had she been here? Class had only just finished a while ago. Surely she didn’t come racing down here to check on Snape so quickly. He remembered to put up a wall on his thoughts this time, just in case. Not that Snape could use Legilimens at the moment, he couldn’t use any magic right now. But he didn’t know about her.  
  
   “Hello, young Mister Potter, I wasn’t expecting to see you down here,” said the witch, her pearly eyes gleaming. She still sat on the bed.   
  
   “Why are _you_ here?” Harry asked, unable to keep his tongue in. It came out more hostile than he would have liked, but he didn’t feel like being nice.   
  
   Desiree stood from the bed, not seeing Severus’ look of relief from behind her. “Professor Snape and I have class schedules to sort out. I could ask you the same thing,” she said, eyes narrowing, though her voice ever-so-sweet.    
  
   “I’m looking after Professor Snape,” Harry stated flatly, as if it were obvious. The lounge was still a bed in the room as he hadn’t transfigured it back from this morning. And neither had Madam Pomfrey by the looks of it. “My magic can help while nothing else can.”   
  
   “Oh yes, I’ve heard all about your supposed magical bond,” said the witch. “Shame… can’t be that strong if you’re sleeping in separate beds.” She put a pouty face on, brushing he hand through Harry’s hair.   
  
   Immediately, Harry moved away, mentally hissing.   
  
   “I will swing by when Mister Potter has class, Severus. That way we can speak… professionally,” Desiree smiled before walking out of the quarters.  
  
   Hearing the door close, Harry didn’t even look at Snape. Instead, he just put his bag onto the bed and started taking things out and sorting them around for what classes he had tomorrow.   
  
   Severus had been quiet the whole time, but merely because he wanted to know what was wrong with Potter. Apparently the young wizard didn’t like the substitute one little bit. He was clearly upset with her for some reason. Maybe she’d said something in class. Then again, he was just trying to push away the obvious. He knew why Harry was upset. It didn’t take a genius to know he was worried about her being a Veela.   
   But why? How could anyone be jealous when it came to him? Severus didn’t see himself highly at all, and he certainly had no interest in Darlene Desiree. He felt rather disgusted by her behaviour as a professor (part Veela or not), and he was quite worried about the students taking Potions. Alas, there wasn’t much he could do. He was stuck here in the bed, unable to use any of his magic. It wasn’t like she was full Veela anyway, he doubted anyone would allow her into Hogwarts if that was the case. She was simply part.   
   Watching Harry, the Gryffindor was clearly wearing his heart on his sleeve in a pissed off manor, tossing his books around. He had no reason to be pissy, though. It wasn’t like he did anything to make Potter feel as if he liked her. He was horribly uncomfortable with her being in his quarters. Idiot Gryffindor was just being a teenager. He said nothing.   
   Taking one of the pieces of parchment on the bed, he began reading through it. It was just class lesson plans, what the students needed to learn and getting them prepared for their exams—which was still a while away, but he still liked being prepared.   
   His thoughts were disturbed when something wet fell on the parchment, making him look up. “Potter… you’re making it snow…” he said in surprise, light flurries of snow dropping out of nowhere in the room. The chill in the air soon became quite apparent to Harry’s own feelings.  
  
   Harry looked up, not even realising that his magic was doing that. Damn accidental magic. He just turned back away and said nothing, trying to control himself. Fawkes made a noise from his perch, but he ignored that, too.   
  
   Frowning, Severus put the parchment down. “Potter-,”  
  
   “You like her, don’t you?”  
  
   Harry’s eyes were angry, and Severus just gave a confused look. What the hell had given him that idea? “I’m going to assume you don’t mean what I think you do with that phrase considering I’ve hardly even spoken to her.”  
  
   “You know exactly what I mean,” Harry said, feeling much more jealous than he probably should have. Damn. This magic was strong, though, and he couldn’t fight it. The thought of Severus with anyone else just tore his chest apart.    
   “You might not know her, but in time, you will. You two are going to be alone together tomorrow!” And that was what really ate at him, not knowing what could happen! She was part Veela! Just being around her made men weak. “And she’s into Potions! She likes all that kind of stuff when I know you want me to, but I don’t. I’m not like Lily who enjoyed it. I just take it because I have to. Because I need it!”   
   He felt his hands starting to shake now, and he turned away once more, trying to gather himself. He shouldn’t be so angry about this, but he was. He knew it was bad for all of this to come out, he knew it was probably making Snape just as angry and bothered for him thinking this. He didn’t need that on his heart.   
  
   Severus just shook his head, knowing that it was their magic doing this to them. He couldn’t afford to get angry over it because he knew it would put stress on his heart.   
   “Harry,” he said, getting the Gryffindor’s attention. He wished he could get up and out of the bed, but he was still weak, and instead, he just extended his arm, covered in the red sleeve from the undershirt he wore.     
  
   Feeling stupid for his feelings, Harry sighed, and he walked over to the bed, taking Snape’s hand. It was warm, probably from being in bed all day. His magic was still weak, but he could feel it. It was getting the slightest bit stronger, which was good to know.   
  
   “I will be seeing more of Professor Desiree, yes, but I cannot help that. She is taking over my classes whilst I recover my wounds. You are going to have to understand that.”   
  
   Harry huffed, but he sat on the side of the bed before gently leaning into Severus. He put his hand to his chest so he wouldn’t hurt him, and he felt Snape’s hand go through his hair. It felt like it had been forever since the both of them had had time like this together.  
   The last time he and Snape had been able to lay like this was when Snape was in the hospital wing for his arm. And that was because he didn’t want Snape suffering all night and unable to sleep. Even though he was injured this time as well (the poor sod), this was different. He could feel it. Snape was finally showing affection in a physical way, to try and comfort him and his thoughts.   
   “Yeah, I know… but I don’t like it,” he said softly, leaning gently into Severus’ shoulder. He could hear the man’s heartbeat gently against his ear. It was soft in rhythm, which was nice to know. He didn’t want to make it hurt and pound too hard.   
  
   Feeling the young boy’s hair slip through his fingers, Severus nodded. “Potter, I’m not about to go and screw up something else I have going for me in my life. I’ve learnt that the hard way. Besides… as pretty as she may be, I don’t find her nearly as attractive as I’ve come to find you.”   
  
   Feeling his cheeks burn, Harry’s green eyes went wide, looking up. “Who are you and what have you done with Professor Snape?”   
  
   Snape just smirked. “You’ll find that I can be quite charismatic when I wish to be, Mister Potter.”   
  
   Harry grinned. “You don’t have to tell me that.”   
  
   This time, it was Snape to feel the uneasiness of a light blush. He felt Harry’s hand go against his cheek, brushing his hair back behind his ear, and then those soft Gryffindor lips were on his own, kissing him gently.   
   Tasting the Gryffindor against him was magical in itself. Harry was so sweet and soft. He felt Harry’s hands go through his clean hair that was soft from the shampoo this morning and unsoiled from being kept inside and around no cauldrons.   
  
   Harry’s hand left Snape’s chest, and he felt the man wince from the pressure, their lips separating. He opened his eyes to see a rather disappointed Snape.   
  
   “I cannot go further, Potter,” Snape informed, his eyes opening as he let his hands slip down to Harry’s back. “It would be unwise to let this progress.” Harry looked wonderful with his lips pink and swollen from the kiss they’d shared.   
  
   Moving his hand back to Severus’ chest, Harry nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, feeling a bit embarrassed that he’d let things get so personal between them. He could feel his own excitement prodding against his thigh as he’d straddled Snape.   
  
   “You’re upset about us not sharing a bed,” Snape said, eyes flicking to the transfigured bed for a moment before returning to Harry’s—which looked down. He picked his chin up so they met once more. “Harry, I am unwell, and it would not be healthy for my heart to sleep with you.”  
  
   “But I can help, and we’re going out… Why can’t we share a bed with each other? It’s only sleep. We’ve done worse,” the younger wizard protested.   
  
   Snape just looked at the other. Such a Gryffindor. “Potter, that happened by pure urge and weakness on both of our behalves.”  
  
   Harry frowned. “You regret it?”  
  
   “No.” Snape was firm with his words, gently touching his palm to Harry’s cheek. “I like you, Harry. More than I ever thought I would considering our pasts, but the comfort of another is foreign to me. You must understand that I am finding it difficult to cope with what relationships consist of. I enjoy my alone time. I enjoy you being against me, but I also find it different to what I have become used to in my years of solitude.”    
  
   “Which is why we should do it more often,” said Harry. He didn’t want to push Snape, of course, but he wanted for them to be able to be physical with one another on a healthy level.   
  
   Severus had to hand it to the Gryffindor: he was persistent in what he wanted. “In time, Potter. When my heart is not so weak.”   
  
   “The rumours have stopped,” Harry said, looking somewhat hopeful. “Do you think that even though you’re better… I could come and visit more often? Even stay here for the night?”   
  
   Potter’s enthusiasm was certainly something. “That would be entirely up to the Headmistress,” he stated. He had no power over that. Yes, they were allowed to have a relationship, but that didn’t mean anything else could happen. Minerva had already been upset knowing they’d slept together.   
  
   Harry made a note to ask her next time they ran into each other. “I can understand that. But… would _you_ want me to?”  
  
   Severus let his hand fall back down, taking Harry’s hip as he was still sitting on him. It was a good thing his magic was weak right now and he had a restrictor over him, otherwise he had a feeling things wouldn’t be going this smoothly.   
   “I would not object to it, no,” he said finally. Harry’s green eyes gleamed at his words, and he let a small smirk crease the corner of his mouth. “But tonight, you must sleep in your own bed.”  
  
   “You don’t mean Gryffindor Tower, do you?”  
  
   “Unless that is what you wish? But I am more than comfortable with you taking the bed you prepared last night,” Snape stated, nudging his head to the used-to-be-couch. “I am getting tired, though. Your Gryffindor behaviour is taking quite its toll on me, Potter.”   
  
   Harry just grinned. “I have tea in the Great Hall soon, so I won’t bother you too long. I promise,” he whispered, kissing Severus once more before letting himself up.


	28. Phoenix Persuasion

Chapter Twenty Eight: Phoenix Persuasion    
  
   Within a fortnight, Snape was up and walking around his quarters. Harry could tell he was beginning to get restless now, wanting to get out and be productive at work. Snape may be private and like his solitude, but he could tell by now he really wanted to get back to work.   
   Things between them had gotten much better, and it had become much easier for them to talk to one another. Mainly on Harry’s half, as he’d been pressing things with him. Unfortunately, there was one person who was constantly on his nerves: Professor Desiree.   
   She was driving him nuts. Every time after class she was in here. Snape was professional as ever with her, but he couldn’t shake off his jealousy that she was flirting with him. He wasn’t insane! She was fucking flirting with him, and it was pissing him off! Even more so, Snape wasn’t saying anything about it!   
   Harry didn’t find a reason to bring it up again since the first time, and he didn’t want his jealousy to cause a fight. The last thing he needed was his stupid emotions getting in the way and screwing things up. He hated being jealous, but he hated the fact that Snape wasn’t pushing her away and telling her to downright fuck off either. He wasn’t exactly giving into her, but he wasn’t telling her to go away. And that bothered him more than anything.   
   Now that Severus was up on his feet (though still unable to teach and suffer too much stress), Harry would have figured he’d just kick her out from coming in here. This was his personal quarters after all. Yes, the office was attached, but this room was _Snape’s_ room. No one should come back here but Snape… and… well, him as well.  
   It was the weekend, so at least they had that. Harry had spent the morning with his Gryffindor friends, but he knew Severus would be lonely down here in the dungeons. He had said it was fine and he could go for as long as he wanted, but Harry knew the Slytherin had gotten used to his presence in the room—which made him grin.   
   “Sev?” he asked. He had been doing homework in the lounge while Severus was doing who-knew-what. All he knew was that the wizard was making noise and moving things around. Most likely trying to keep himself occupied and working considering he couldn’t do much else.  
  
   “Yes?” Severus stopped, putting the bottle down in his hands.   
  
   “Do you think you’ll be able to go outside?”  
  
   “Am I irritating you?” asked Snape, raising a brow. Hell, this was his quarters!   
  
   Harry laughed a little. “No, no. I mean, I thought we could go for a walk. You’re well enough. I don’t mean flying on brooms or anything, but just to get some fresh air. I can tell you’re getting agitated. I’m sure Madam Pomfrey won’t mind. After all, it’s been a week or so, and some fresh air would do you good.”   
  
   Snape put his arms down to his side. He was a man who enjoyed his privacy, the silence of him simply reading a book, but he did have his limits. He was no Gryffindor, but he still enjoyed being able to step outside every now and again. Even if he regretted it the instant he stepped out.   
   But he nodded. “When you’ve finished your homework,” he said in a rather fatherly tone that surprised the both of them. He turned back around, sorting out the flagons. “I will be in my laboratory if you need me.”   
  
   Harry watched as Severus removed himself from the lounge, walking into what Harry had guessed was a private lab for him to study and brew potions in.   
   Looking down at his book, he really didn’t need to do this right now, but he had a feeling Snape would order him to do it either way. He mentally snickered to himself. Sometimes Snape was a bit like Hermione in that sense. Hermione was, after all, smart enough to be a professor here.   
   Quickly finishing what he was doing, he closed his book and set it to the side on the table before standing up. The door to the lab was open. Inside, it wasn’t very big, but it was enough. There were a few cauldrons set up, but nothing brewing yet.   
  
   “ _All_ of your homework, Potter?” Severus asked sceptically as he raised a brow. He knew very well that it hadn’t all been done that quickly.   
  
   “I’ve got all day and tomorrow. I promise I’ll get it done. And if I don’t, then you can kick me out or take House points,” Harry smiled, extending his hand. “Before you start, come on, I’d really like for us to get out in the open.”   
  
   Severus hadn’t been out and about since the accident, and although Harry had said that most of the students had stopped making rumours fly, he had a feeling the sight of them together would start them up again. On the other side, it was the weekend, and most of them would be elsewhere.   
   He stopped what he was doing and approached Harry. “I will take you up on that, Potter. Don’t think I won’t just because I have feelings for you. You’re still a Gryffindor, after all.”   
  
   Harry grinned. “It’s cold out there, you should probably grab a jacket.”   
  
   “Apparently I am not the only ‘mother-hen’ around here,” Snape muttered. Considering it had been a few days, Snape was allowed to wear his usual clothes. However, he just grabbed his winter robes and slipped them on over his dress-shirt.  
  
   Harry smirked, feeling a little sheepish. He didn’t need Snape getting any more sick, though.   
  
   Fawkes gave an excited screech and flapped his wings graciously, landing on Severus’ arm. “I suppose I could let you out… Although considering you’ve been such a prat, I should leave you here to rot,” he mumbled.  
   He walked over and grabbed his boots before sitting down to put them on, Fawkes making himself comfortable on his shoulder, even though the phoenix was much too large to sit comfortably. He kept slipping from the movement, much to Snape’s pleasure. Just a small payback for making him suffer the previous week and a half.   
   When he was ready, he headed to the door, inclining his head. “Potter. Are you coming?” he drawled, Harry having just been standing there.   
  
   Admittedly, Harry had lost concentration when he had been watching Severus. He enjoyed seeing just how human the man was. He was just like everyone else, and he enjoyed seeing those glimpses.   
   Grabbing his own Muggle jacket, he slipped it on over his shoulders. Spells was asleep, so he didn’t bother offering for her to join them, and the both of them headed out of the dungeons and into the cold day. Thankfully, the sun was shining.   
  
   The corridors had been quiet, only a small group of students out and about. Severus was more than happy for that. And as soon as they hit the sunlight, Fawkes flew from his arm and began circling in the sky to get some exercise.   
  
   “You do know he’s been doing this on purpose, don’t you?” Harry asked, continuing to walk. It was nice to be out in the sunlight. It was cold, but it was at least good in the sun. They continued through the courtyard, and Harry was pleased to see that most mouths were shut when some of the other students saw them. However, it didn’t mean their eyes didn’t follow.  
  
   Putting his hands into his winter robe’s pockets, Snape scoffed. “Yes, because just like everyone else at Hogwarts, he enjoys watching me suffer, too.”   
  
   Harry stopped, putting his hand onto Snape’s arm and stopping him. “No, because he knew it would get us closer,” he said, watching the dark brown eyes narrow ever-so-slightly.   
  
   Snape continued walking, falling silent in thought as they walked across the grounds. Fawkes followed above them and finally landed in one of the large trees, calling loudly. Sometimes Severus really hated that sound. It sent chills down his spine. A phoenix could have a very powerful call. To a pure heart, it was beautiful. To a dark heart, it was like murder. Snape didn’t know what he heard when Fawkes sang.   
   He hadn’t even realised, but they’d reached the Quidditch pitch in utter silence. There were a few students flying on their broomsticks, but other than that, it was rather isolated, and sunny for Potter.   
   “Do you miss Quidditch?” he asked, turning to Harry as he rested a hand onto one of the stands. Walking here had made him fairly tired from having days off from doing anything, but he would make it through.   
  
   “Yeah…” Harry answered, looking down.   
  
   Snape moved into the pitch, walking up the stairs. Stairs… argh, they were a killer right now. “Well, why don’t you get your broomstick? It’s the weekend. I’m positive the other students would allow you to join. You are, after all, the famous Harry Potter.”   
  
   Harry’s eyes opened in surprise. What? He thought Snape hated that about him. “B-but… I thought you wanted to just… be together,” he asked. Snape took a seat in the stands, and he followed, sitting beside him. Fawkes perched on the bench in front of them, fluffing up.   
  
   “Potter, I’m no fool. You’ve been keeping me company the last week and a half and neglecting your own Gryffindor needs. If you wish to go flying, then by all means, while you can, do so.” Soon enough it would be too cold.  
  
   Harry felt a pang of guilt hit his chest. He didn’t want to leave Severus, though. “But… you’ll be here alone.”   
  
   “I have Fawkes.” He was used to the bitterness of loneliness.  
  
   “You won’t kill him?” Harry asked, raising a brow. Fawkes squawked, stretching his wings up.   
  
   Snape rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it…” he muttered sarcastically.   
  
   “You know, if you weren’t sick, you could come, too!”  
  
   Snape almost laughed, arching a brow. “Potter, I prefer my feet on the ground. Not my head in the air.”   
  
   This time it was the Gryffindor who rolled his eyes. “You don’t even need a broom, Sev,” he pointed out. “Which, by the way, can anyone fly like that? Can it be taught?”   
  
   “Not to gloat, Potter, but not many wizards can fly without a vehicle,” said Snape. He was not the kind of person to gloat about how he could do something that others couldn’t. Sure, he had his inner pride, but he was a well reserved Slytherin. Unlike James Potter… Truth be told, he was never that great of a flier. Part of him hated James because of that. He only wished he honed those kind of skills on a broom. Harry was much like his father in that way. Lucky prat.   
  
   Harry moved to sit on the bench in front of Snape, putting his hand on Fawke’s back to stroke him. “But can it be taught? I mean… I’d like to fly with you. I love flying.” It was a passion of his, and it was actually something that he was good at.   
  
   Fly? With him…? Was Potter trying to be romantic or something? Snape felt himself move uneasily for a moment, brushing the hair from his face. “With the right power, it can be, but… I must admit, Potter, even with the Dark Lord having taught me, flying is not my strong point, if you hadn’t noticed.” He hadn’t exactly learnt how to fly in a straight line or smoothly. He was a little bit all over the place, really. Wow, he just admitted something to Harry… He felt a sudden urge of gross vulnerability devour him.  
  
   “I’d still like to fly with you,” Harry said, a light smile creasing his lips.   
  
   “Perhaps when I am feeling more up to it,” said Severus. He wasn’t too keen on it himself. “Before the sun goes down, go and summon your broom. I will wait.”   
  
   Harry didn’t push any more, and he summoned his broom, quickly jumping onto it and joining the game that was going on throughout the pitch. The others were more than happy to have another player. Harry had a feeling it was because of who he was, but it was great to be on a broom again. He’d really missed this. The wind against him. The free feeling it gave him. He loved it.   
  
   On the stand, Severus allowed Fawkes to sit on his thigh, absently patting him as he watched the brooms go by. He didn’t mind being out in the sun as it was quite cool in the breeze, plus, it allowed him to stretch his legs. He’d been in his quarters much too long. At least when he was teaching, he was doing rounds, eating in the Great Hall and in classes.   
   Relaxing a little, he watched as Harry enjoyed the game of Quidditch. Of course, there were no Bludgers out, that was too dangerous. But there was a Snitch and the Quaffle. As much as it reminded him of James Potter, he’d been watching Harry play Quidditch ever since the young boy had come to Hogwarts. All the teachers had through Quidditch season. It was, after all, a school event.   
   He frowned, rubbing his chin at the thought. No, he didn’t like James Potter, and he never would. In fact, he still hated the man. It made him question how the hell he and Harry had ever developed feelings for one another.   
    _’Because Harry is nothing like James…’_ he told himself. Potter may resemble much of his father, with his messy hair, glasses and being popular, but in reality, with getting to know Harry, he was nothing like James Potter. Maybe it was because he was brought up with so little from the Dusrleys that he learnt how to appreciate his friendship, or maybe it was because he was Lily’s son. He didn’t know. But he was more than thankful that he had gotten to see the true Harry Potter, and not the James he had always seen in him.   
  
   “Severus, what are you doing here?”   
  
   Snape’s thoughts were stolen from him as he turned his head to see the witch who was taking his classes. Why was he here? What the hell else would he be doing here but watching the students play Quidditch? That was so out of character for him… In the sun… Damn Potter.   
   “I thought I’d work on my tan,” he muttered sarcastically. He didn’t bother asking how she was, he had no interest in hearing it, personally. He honestly had no interest in her as a person, either. The only information he needed out of her was about his class and students.  
  
   Desiree smirked a little, walking over and taking the seat in front of Severus. She looked at the phoenix on his knee and looked over his gorgeous fiery feathers. “My, what a lovely creature you have. Where did you get him from?”  
  
   Severus frowned, looking at Fawkes. “Fawkes belonged to Albus Dumbledore. When he… passed, the bird figured I was next in line to put up with him,” he said in a rather disinterested tone.   
  
   The witch looked up, her cleanly preened eyebrows arching in apology. “Oh, I’m very sorry, Severus. I’ve heard all about that… It must have been difficult. My condolences, of course.” She put her hand out reassuringly, touching the man’s knee.  
  
   Snape just looked at the hand that was on him, sitting back up. Bold of anyone to touch him. “Are you here for the students, or is there something you require of me?”   
  
   Taking her hand back, Darlene Desiree fluttered her eyelashes. “Well, it’s a lovely day out. I thought I’d come and see the students playing. It’s quite nice getting to see them. Young Mister Potter is quite the flier, I must admit,” she said, looking over her shoulder to watch Harry on his broom for a moment.   
  
   Snape eyed her carefully. What the hell did she care about Potter?   
  
   Turning back to Severus, she smiled gently. “How are you feeling today? I’m guessing Pomfrey knows you’re out and about?”   
  
   “I am more than capable of spending the day out,” stated the Potions master. “I don’t need orders from Poppy Pomfrey.” Although he had a feeling she’d probably smack him over the head with a book for not telling her that he was out and about. It wasn’t like he was on a broomstick out on the pitch! He was just sitting here! Still, he knew how feisty the med-witch could be.   
  
   “Well, you certainly sound like you can take care of yourself,” the witch mused. “I must ask; why did you become a professor here at Hogwarts?”   
  
   Snape just looked at the woman, not a single blink. He wasn’t about to tell her his whole life story. He didn’t even know or particularly like the woman. Did she honestly think he was going to be ‘friends’ with her because she was taking over his classes?   
   “Clearly, I have a fascination in Potions, and I am gifted in the arts,” he said flatly. “It would be a waste if I did not put that to use, would it not?” he said, lifting a brow and shrugging his shoulders once.  
  
   “Well, I’ve certainly heard that you are gifted in the Dark Arts. What is your favourite Potion?”   
  
   Why the hell did she want to know!? By now, the witch was starting to piss him off. He didn’t like ‘smalltalk’. It was either shut up or say what you came here to say. None of this in between bullshit that he didn’t care for.  
   He literally thought of the most disgusting thing he could think of right now, even if it was no way near his favourite. “Flesh Eating Potion,” he stated bluntly, never once twitching. Well, this could be more fun than he thought if he tried to test her.   
  
   Desiree didn’t flinch, she just smirked. “Very dangerous stuff, Severus. And quite hard to get the ingredients for. I hear you need snake fangs for that.”  
  
   Severus went stiff at the thought, subconsciously lifting a hand to his neck.   
  
   A light chuckle came from the witch. “Don’t tell me a Slytherin is afraid of snakes, Severus.”  
  
   Well, if she had a snake the size of Nagini almost kill her, he was certain she wouldn’t be looking for snakes unless she ultimately _had_ to. Besides, he wasn’t _scared_ of them!  
   “What do you want?” His voice had turned hostile now, putting his hand back down and onto Fawkes, who sat watching the other professor.  
  
   The witch shrugged. “Like I said, I just wanted to spend the day out in the sun while it’s not snowing yet,” she said absently, looking over the pitch. “Tell me, what exactly is it about Potter that you’ve come to like, Severus?”  
  
   Snape’s hand left Fawkes, the bird’s back feathers pushing forward as he watched the witch. “I don’t really think that is any of your concern,” he said slowly, his brow twitching.   
  
   Crossing a leg over the other, Desiree smirked, giving a gentle laugh. “Severus, we’re adults. Slytherins, as well,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “You’re clearly a man who is drawn to power. Dumbledore, then You-Know-Who. And now the Potter boy? I suppose I can’t blame you, but, tsk, do you have any idea how powerful Slytherin witches can be? Have men always been your thing?”  
  
   What the bloody hell was she talking about? Severus suddenly found himself very uncomfortable. More uncomfortable than before, that was. He wasn’t a person to think _anyone_ was coming onto him, but Merlin’s beard!  
   This had to have been because of Potter, right? Because he was a powerful wizard? Because being with Potter probably made him more of a sexual target simply because Harry liked him. If Harry liked him, then everyone else could, right? Fuck that! He liked it better when everyone hated him! At least it didn’t make him feel uncomfortable! He knew where he stood! Or maybe he was just thinking too much into it. It could simply be her Veela half.  
   Suddenly, he realised that he really should have stayed inside today. His heart was starting to hurt now that he was getting stressed out over this. He just stayed silent.   
  
   Desiree cocked her head to the side, as if trying to read the wizard’s very blank expression. “I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?”  
  
   “Do I appear uncomfortable?”   
  
   The woman made a short laugh. “No, I can’t say you do, but then again, I’ve been told you’re quite good at hiding your emotions.”   
  
   Severus lifted his brows a little in triumph.   
  
   “I must admit, I do enjoy a challenge, Severus. I think I may have met my match,” she whispered in a delightful hiss, grinning to show her pearly whites. “Maybe you and I could get to know each other a bit better later on. I’d love to check out your private lab, maybe brew something with you. See how Hogwarts’ Potions master works on a personal level. Your bird certainly seems fond of me.”  
   Looking at Fawkes, who had been staring at her curiously the whole time she’d been here, she extended her hand to touch him, but the bird fluffed up and screeched loudly over the arena, making her instantly take her hand back. She cringed at the sound.   
  
   On his broom, Harry turned immediately at the sound of Fawkes. His heart clenched at the sight before him. He couldn’t see much as he was so far away, but he knew exactly who the other professor was.  
   He swooped down hurriedly, his hair flicking past his eyes as it was getting lengthy. Landing in the stands, he put his broom to his hand and looked between the two, Fawkes’ feathers still raised, crest up. Clearly he shared the same feelings as Harry.  
   “Professor, is everything okay?” he asked.   
  
   “Yes, thank you, Mister Potter,” said Professor Desiree.  
  
   “I wasn’t talking to you,” Harry said forcefully, turning to Snape and completely ignoring the witch despite her being a professor. “Are you okay, Severus?”   
  
   “Fine, Potter.”  
  
   “What’s wrong with Fawkes? His call pretty much echoed through the entire grounds,” Harry said, sounding worried as he stepped in between the two professors’ and gave Fawkes a scratch. He seemed to calm down at the sight of him.   
  
   Severus mentally smirked at the fact that Potter had pretty much blocked Desiree from his sight. Harry crouched down before him so he was level with Fawkes, showing great care for the phoenix that nibbled him for affection.  
   “Yes, that was rather unexpected of him. I don’t think he’s very fond of Professor Desiree,” he said, looking back to the witch who seemed angry at that. Well, he was being honest.  
  
   Harry looked to the woman. “Did you _want_ something, Professor?” he asked bluntly.   
  
   Seeming offended, Professor Desiree put a hand to her chest. “Excuse me, Potter, but I can very well take points from your House for such a negative tone towards a superior of yours. I could also give you detention, even if it is the weekend.”   
  
   “I didn’t do anything wrong,” Harry protested, “I just asked you a question. Besides, you shouldn’t even be here.”  
  
   “And why not?” asked the witch, standing up from her seat. Harry stood up to face her, even though he was shorter than her.   
  
   “Because you’re just trying to get to Professor Snape. I know what you’re doing,” he growled, eyes fierce on her.   
  
   “Potter!” Snape hissed. He didn’t need the bloody Gryffindor fighting his battles for him. Besides, he was being childish. He stood up, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder to keep him back. “I think you should go back inside.”  
  
   “What?” Harry asked, shocked. No way! There was no way he was leaving these two out here alone. He was tired of Professor Desiree flaunting herself in front of them. Nobody ever showed an interest in Severus before he started liking him, and why would they? Snape came off as bitter and cruel to everyone. Harry didn’t even know how he’d started liking him. Only when he’d seen his memories had he started to see Snape for who he was beneath that cold Professor performance.   
   “I’m not going anywhere! It’s the weekend, and I can do what I like. Make her go! She’s the one that’s flirting with another professor. Isn’t that… illegal or something!?”   
  
   “Potter, shut your mouth and get inside,” ordered Snape. “You’re embarrassing yourself and making a fuss out of nothing.”  
  
   This only pissed Harry off even more.   
  
   “My, my, Severus, you have got a feisty one on your hands.”   
  
   By now, Snape was quite tired of all of this. Fine, if the both of them weren’t going to leave, he would. He grabbed Fawkes and turned away, walking out of the stand. He didn’t need this stress on his heart.   
  
   “Professor! Severus!” Harry called. “Now look what you’ve done,” he hissed to the other professor. He marched after Snape, catching up with him.  
  
   “Potter, you’re an insufferable idiot sometimes,” snapped Snape, walking much too fast for what he should be.  
  
   “She was bothering you!” Harry pointed out. “You weren’t putting up much of a fight, either.” Harry’s voice went rather cold and accusing.   
  
   Stopping, Snape eyed the Gryffindor who was still holding his broom. “What are you insinuating, Potter? That I enjoyed that? That I need you to battle for me? You’re just like your mother. I don’t _need_ you looking out for me every two seconds. I am a grown wizard, Potter, not a child! And to think that I even _would_ like her? I have more respect for myself than you bloody Gryffindor’s do.”  
  
   As Snape started to walk again, Harry chased after him and stood in front of him so he couldn’t move any further. “Severus, I like you, of course I’m going to stand up for you when I know you’re uncomfortable, and I’m jealous. Would you rather me just sit aside and laugh about it!? Or even worse, not care at all!?”  
  
   Rolling his eyes, Severus went to walk in the other direction, but Potter was soon there, leaning on his broom. He growled. “Get out of my way.”  
  
   “No.” Harry’s voice was firm.   
  
   Snape stopped, huffing and lifting a brow impatiently. “What do you want me to say?”  
  
   “That it’s okay for me to stick up for you. That it’s okay for you to stick up for me. It’s what people do when they care about each other,” Harry said, his voice softening. “Why didn’t you just tell her to go away? Talk to Professor McGonagall about it or something? She’s sexually harassing you.”  
  
   Oh, she was not! That was going way too far. Snape’s shoulder lowered a little, breathing gently as he could feel his heart hurting lightly. “I don’t need anyone fighting my battles for me, Potter. I am quite capable-,”   
  
   “Stop with that rubbish, would you? I don’t care if you don’t want me standing up for you, it doesn’t make you any weaker! I’m going to do it because I love-,“ Harry put his hand over his mouth, “I mean, I like you.”   
  
   Snape felt himself stiffen as he looked at Harry, brows arching. Did he just say what he thought he did?   
  
   Landing his feet back on the ground, Harry ran his hand against the back of his neck. He was pretty sweaty from his game of Quidditch, even though it was cold. It was still a work out, and now he could feel the blood flushing into his cheeks as he’d accidently let that slip.   
   Feeling a hand go onto his chin, his eyes were lifted to see Snape’s looking at him. He felt embarrassed for letting that slip because he didn’t even know if it was true. Yes, he liked Snape, and he’d come to like him a lot. Sometimes it was all he could think about, but… love? That was such a strong word. But feeling the man’s skin on him, he felt his heart throb behind his ribcage.   
  
   How anyone could ever love him, he had no idea. Severus wasn’t sure if Harry had meant to say that or not, or if the term had just slipped from his tongue, but he was stunned nonetheless. For years on end he had loved Lily. For years on end he had accepted that he would never love or be loved again. But… hearing Harry say such a thing, it somehow made Severus’ life lighter.   
  
   Harry bit his lip as he looked to those dark brown eyes of the Potions master. Without the strength of Severus’ magic, or even his own, he pushed himself up onto his toes and kissed Professor Snape, claiming his soft lips as he pulled him down against him. Fawkes flapped his wings to keep a hold on Severus’ cloak.  
  
   Surprised, Severus almost stumbled forward and backward at the same time, but held his ground. Harry’s hand was soon against his cheek, and his own hands hesitated to slip down to the Gryffindor’s waist—even if to just steady himself.   
  
   Hearing a whistle from the distance, Harry instantly broke the kiss, looking embarrassed as he saw Ron and Hermione heading their way. “I-I’m sorry… I just…”  
  
   Snape stood up straight, trying not to look as awkward as he felt considering Harry’s friends had just witnessed that. Fawkes rubbed his head against his forehead, making him swat at him. “I… should return to my quarters.”   
  
   Harry nodded, wiping his mouth down and scratching the back of his head. He watched Snape turn and walk away, heading back to the castle in his winter robes.  
  
   “Granger, Weasley,” Snape muttered awkwardly as he passed them, Fawkes making a chirp that sounded much too like the whistle Weasley had just made. He grimaced at him.  
  
   Ron and Hermione shared a smirk with one another before they reached Harry. “You know, you two really shouldn’t be snogging when people can so easily see you,” said Ron, folding his arms.   
  
   Harry just pushed Ron on the shoulder. “Shut up, it… just sort of happened. Sorry you had to see it. I know you’re not really friends with Professor Snape.”  
  
   “Are you kidding me?” Ron laughed. “With that on our side, I don’t think Snape’ll ever be game enough to put us through a detention or take points from Gryffindor again. He looked more awkward than I’ve ever seen him before. Who knew Harry kissing him could put a bit of blood in his face.”  
  
   Harry chuckled embarrassedly. “I dunno about that. Snape’s still a Slytherin.”  
  
   “How is he, anyway?” asked Hermione. Considering Harry had shared what he knew of Snape’s childhood with them, she had a feeling that Snape was no way as bitter and cruel as he made himself out to be. Snape’s life had not been the best, and he’d been bitter and jealous of James since the moment they’d met (and he had reason to hate him from the way he treated him), but from what she’d got, James was everything Snape wished he was. Popular. Good looking. Played Quidditch. Now that Harry, of all people, liked him, Snape was probably feeling strange over the whole thing. Not to mention boyishly embarrassed.      
  
   “Well, he can’t be too bad if Harry’s snogging him!” Ron exclaimed. “Don’t give him a heart-attack, mate.”   
  
   Harry grinned, even if he was feeling embarrassed. “He’s doing better. Although I’m sure he’d be doing better if that stupid new Potions professor would leave him alone,” he muttered.   
  
   “Professor Desiree?” Hermione asked, “What’s she doing?” Besides the fact she was part Veela.  
  
   What _wasn’t_ she doing!? “Flirting with Snape, getting in the way.” Harry gave an aggravated sigh. “Of course, it’s not like Snape thinks that’s true.”  
  
   “Well, why would he?” Ron asked, raising a brow. “Can’t imagine he thinks highly of himself with everyone calling him names…” He looked down guiltily for a moment. He’d been one of those people.   
   “She’s really flirting with him? Blimey, I thought she was just doing that with the students. She is part Veela, mate…”   
  
   Hermione looked disgusted at the idea. “Personally, I’ll be glad when she’s gone.” Both Harry and Ron looked at her. “Why do you look so surprised? You two aren’t the only ones who have picked up on her behaviour, you know? Plus, it’s rather unprofessional. Not to mention she knows you and Snape are in a relationship.” Hermione was the last person to ever think someone wasn’t qualified to work at Hogwarts because of their blood, but McGonagall really should have chosen someone else. She supposed with the short of staff from the war, she didn’t have many choices. It all happened so fast as well, and Slughorn didn’t wish to return ever again.  
  
   “I don’t think she cares about that,” Harry stated.   
  
   “Well, I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Harry. It’s not like Professor Snape’s really… well, you know,” Hermione shrugged.   
  
   “Yeah, I gotta admit, it was weird seeing you two kiss. Never thought I’d see Snape do something like that. Hell, me and Hermione don’t even do that in public, well… unless it’s a goodbye or something.” He felt his ears burn.  
  
   Harry felt another wave of embarrassment flow over him, and he noticed Hermione was rather pink in the cheeks, too. “It’s still annoying,” he muttered. “What are you two doing out here anyway?”   
  
   “Quidditch, of course!” Ron grinned, taking Harry’s broom from him. “Thought we’d catch a game or two before it started to get dark. It’s a nice day out here, after all! Plus, gotta do something to get away from all the homework they’re giving us.”  
  
   Harry agreed to that. At least they still had tomorrow off as well. The three of them set off back to the Quidditch pitch. Harry was thankful to see no more Professor Desiree when he returned. However, he couldn’t help but feel an uneasiness settle in his stomach at the thought of her having tailed after Snape…


	29. Heart-rate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning--Sex scene

Chapter Twenty Nine: Heart-Rate.   
  
   When Harry was done with Quidditch, he was damp with sweat and needed a change of clothes. All of his clothes were in Snape’s quarters as he’d been staying there the last week and a half, so he headed down to the dungeons. He really needed a bath, too.   
   He had to admit, it was great being able to play Quidditch again, and getting to hang out with Ron and Hermione on their days off school. Soon enough, it would be too cold (despite the school still playing), and Christmas holidays would be starting. He still needed to figure out what he was doing.    
   Ron and Hermione weren’t going to be in the country. He doubted he could go back to the Dursleys. Maybe staying at Hogwarts was his only option. He didn’t mind that, it was just going to be lonely.   
   With his broom in his hand, he knocked on the door so he could come in; opening it when he heard Snape say it was okay to come in. The Potions master was sitting at his desk in his office, parchment and quill in front of him. School work, he figured. He was just happy professor Desiree was nowhere to be seen. Thank God.   
  
   Looking up as Harry came in, Snape noticed just how disgustingly sweaty the Gryffindor was. Even being cold, Quidditch still proved to be a work out. Severus couldn’t say he was attracted to sweat, but Harry looked good messy—just as much as he looked good finely preened.   
   “You best not be dragging mud into my quarters, Potter,” he said bluntly, eyes on the green ones. He was serious, despite his tone which came off rather lighter than he was used to.  
  
   Harry looked down at his shoes and quickly kicked them off. “Sorry, Professor,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He stepped into the office. “I would have gotten changed in Gryffindor common room, but all my stuff is pretty much here.”  
  
   Watching as Harry came in, Snape put his quill down, his hands going together beneath his chin. “As I informed previously, you are welcome to use the facilities provided.”  
  
   Harry felt a little uneasy thinking about showering in Snape’s bathroom. Okay, so he’d seen Snape bathe, and he’d even washed his hair for him—but Snape was ill and weak, and couldn’t do it on his own. Harry could.  
   It was just another step, though. And Snape was offering! Which was a very polite show of affection for the man. The thought of having a shower in Severus’ bathroom made him think bad things, though. Good, but bad. Would Snape want to join? Would Snape be thinking about him whilst he was showering? Harry felt a shiver flow down his spine.   
   “Why don’t you… join me?” he asked nervously, feeling his cheeks flush. Snape just looked at him, a brow arching. He felt silly after saying it, but this was something that people in relationships did. They shared showers, baths, food, beds… Why couldn’t they? He knew Snape’s heart was still a bit weak, but it had been days now, and he was sure a simple shower or bath would be okay.   
  
   “Erm… no,” Snape said awkwardly, looking back down and continuing to scribble on the parchment.   
  
   “Why not?” said Harry, putting his hands onto the desk as he walked over.   
  
   “Because I don’t wish to?” Severus said, as if that was a good enough reason why. He didn’t need a reason to not want to bathe with Potter…   
  
   Harry felt disappointed. “Okay… sorry I asked,” he mumbled. “Well, I’m going to take a bath…”  
  
   When Harry walked away into the next room, Severus looked back up. What an odd question to ask. He literally had no idea what the hell brought that on… Sure, Harry was in need of a bath after playing Quidditch, but to ask such a personal question?   
   Severus put his quill back down, feeling rather uneasy and guilty about the fact that he’d so bluntly rejected him. He knew Potter was clearly more of an affectionate seeking being, but things were still difficult for him to accept—let alone having to deal with seeing Potter naked and sharing a bath with him.   
   The thought made Severus rather embarrassed, and he felt his blood run cold at the thought. Of course it was a fantasy he enjoyed, but the reality was completely different. He could do anything in his fantasies without feeling embarrassed or awkward over things. Reality was so much different. There was no saying what could happen, there was no telling what Potter was thinking about him and his actions. He could do horrible things in his fantasies—things that he could never do in real life. Hell, that was the whole damn point of fantasies! They weren’t real! And most of all, they were private.  
   Moving uneasily in his seat, he looked up as Fawkes flew over to him onto the table, his claws slipping and the bird stumbling around, his tail hitting up against the ink bottle that was on the table. The black liquid splashed all over the place, Snape immediately trying to step back from the splatter. It was to no avail.   
   “You idiot!” he hissed, Fawkes squawking as he fluffed himself up and flew up to him, turning on his shoulder and smearing the ink against his cheek. “Fawkes! Get off!” He shook his shoulder and the bird flew back to his perch, seeming more than satisfied with himself.  
   Immediately, he heard footsteps running through the other room and Harry was there.  
  
   “Professor, is everything-,” Harry looked at the state of Snape, ink smeared across his face and looking furiously at Fawkes. Instantly, he knew exactly what Fawkes was trying to do, the phoenix shaking his tail feathers proudly.   
   Harry couldn’t hold his laughter in.  
  
   “This isn’t funny, Potter!” Snape spat, looking down at himself. The dress-shirt he was wearing was completely ruined now unless Harry could clean it with his magic. “I hate that bloody bird.”  
  
   Harry just chuckled. He hadn’t made it into the tub yet; he’d just managed to get his jacket off, grab some fresh clothes and take his socks off.   
   He made his way over to the Potions master. “Looks like you’ll be needing that bath after all.”  
  
   “Nonsense. Just use a spell,” Snape muttered angrily, looking down to Harry. The look in the Gryffindor’s eyes did not settle well with him.  
  
   Walking behind the desk, Harry took Snape’s hands into his own, looking up at him. “Just please have a bath with me. I’ve already helped you have a bath before… Plus, if we have separate ones… who knows how much hot water I’ll leave. Don’t want you having a cold shower and getting sick.”  
  
   Snape gave an aggravated look, eyes halving. He could easily do it the old way with a kettle. That was so tedious, though. “Potter, you are impossible,” he muttered, looking down at himself. He wished he could just use magic, that way he could clean everything up. He liked this shirt, too…   
   “Get in the bath… I’ll be there in a minute,” he stated. He needed to gather his thoughts for a moment.   
  
   Harry grinned and almost jumped like a gleeful child. “Excellent,” he smiled, turning and heading back for the bathroom.  
  
   Severus frowned, running a hand against his forehead as he glared to Fawkes. “I know what you are doing… I’m not stupid, bird,” he muttered, Fawkes giving a happy chirp. He rolled his eyes. It would only be a bath. Nothing more, anyway. Not with his heart. No, just a bath would be fine. Plus… he and Potter were in a relationship… This was what normal couples did. They shared things.   
   He mentally whined to himself, his skin crawling at the thought. He didn’t mind having a bath with Potter, but… Potter seeing him naked. It just made him cringe. One, he didn’t want the sympathy, and two, he hated himself. Loathed, more like it. Potter could have anyone with his fame, and instead, he was stuck with him because of their magic… Fucking magic!   
   Severus scowled as he undid his cravat and walked into the bedroom, grabbing a set of new clothes to wear. He hesitated when he looked at the closed door. The water had stopped running, so it clearly meant that the bath was ready. This was so awkward… Merlin, why couldn’t Nagini or that Death Eater have bloody killed him?   
   No, he could do this… He couldn’t just disappoint Harry now. He’d agreed to it, and the more this ink was on his skin, the harder it would be for it to get out. It was simple. Get in, wash himself, get out. No biggy, right? It wasn’t like Potter could be any more comfortable about this. It was just a fucking bath! They’d had _sex_ before! It was probably about time he gave into the Gryffindor and showed more of himself.   
   Taking a breath, he opened the door, closing it behind him and putting his clothes down onto the counter. He turned back around to see Harry sitting in the tub, the bubbles covering up to his chest. Well… that made things easier… But Potter was already in, and he still had to get undressed. At least when Harry had helped bathe him previously, he had given him privacy so he hadn’t really seen anything but his chest and up.   
  
   “It shouldn’t be too hot,” said Harry, smiling gently as he extended an arm. “Come on, the more that stuff is on you, the worse it’ll stain. Trust me, I once let a pen explode in my pocket back at the Dursleys. Of course, I had to scrub it all day the traditional way. Aunt Petunia wouldn’t put it in with Dudley’s stuff.”  
  
   Snape’s brow furrowed. It didn’t make him feel any more comfortable about himself, but Harry was right. Of course, this would all be so much easier if he were allowed to use magic or Harry just did it for him. Damn Gryffindor antics.   
   Turning around so he didn’t have to face Harry, he started undoing the buttons on his shirt, looking down at himself. It was just a bloody bath… nothing more. It wasn’t like Harry didn’t have the same equipment he did…  
   Slipping his shirt off, he put it into the hamper that was in the room—House Elves did the laundry for students as well as teachers. Of course, spells could clean things, but a thorough wash was always for the best. Plus… Snape wasn’t even sure if Harry’s wand would be able to get the ink all the way out. _Scourgify_ charms only did so much.  
  
   As Snape’s shirt was slipped off, Harry watched as the man stood with his back to him, shirtless. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Snape’s back nude now, but it was the first time he’d seen all the way down to his hips, where his belt sat, the line of his back smooth and deep.   
   Harry bit his lip, feeling his cheeks flush, his blood travelling to other places of his body as well. Months ago, never would he have thought Snape could be attractive. Somehow over time, Harry’s eyes had opened and Snape’s appearance had certainly grown to be attractive to him in every way possible.   
  
   Okay. Shirt was off… Now pants. Oh Merlin. Turning, he saw Potter was watching him. “Do you mind?” he asked, his hands awkwardly sitting by his side.   
  
   “Not really, no…” Harry admitted, now glad there were bubbles in the bath. He was flushed, but he wanted Snape in the tub with him. He extended his hand once more, his glasses getting a little foggy. He’d take them off once Snape was finally in.   
  
   “Potter, please turn around.” There was a sudden urgency in Snape’s voice now.   
  
   Alright… but only because he really wanted Snape in here, and he was respectful. He took his glasses off and handed them to Snape. “Just put them on the sink, please.”  
  
   Taking the glasses, Severus did so before turning back around. Harry kept his face turned, and he quickly slipped his pants off, underwear with them. Awkwardly, he stepped into the other side of the tub and tried to relax, looking at the ink that was now on his skin from the stained shirt.   
  
   When the water went level again, Harry turned. His vision was blurry, but the tub wasn’t exactly huge. “That’s not so bad, is it?” he asked. He did wish he was closer, though, so he could really see Snape clearly. He hated being short-sighted.      
  
   Snape leant back a bit, the bandage on his chest still covering him. By now, it was just a patch, though. Soon, he hoped, it would be taken off. He stiffened when Harry moved, coming closer to him.   
  
   “Severus…?” Harry asked, moving a little bit closer.   
  
   “Mm?”  
  
   Harry looked down for a moment, his cheeks still warm. “Can I wash you?”   
  
   What? Snape nervously eyed the Gryffindor. Why did he have to be so anxious about this? Because deep down he was paranoid what Potter would think of him. Why? It wasn’t like he cared what anyone else thought. He’d been called names since he came to Hogwarts. He’d had just about every name thrown at him, not to mention James Potter stealing his clothes when he’d gone for a shower late one night (as the students were all communal). When he was here at Hogwarts, he usually showered when it was late, so no one else was in there with him. He’d always been insecure about his body. When he was little, he was thin and scarred. Now he was older, he had more scars, and didn’t exactly look as well toned as Harry did. Not to mention his skin was horribly pasty.  
   Looking over at the young man, he could see just how toned Harry’s shoulders were, down to his chest. Harry wasn’t exactly built, he’d always be thin and small for his age (most likely because of the neglect from his aunt and uncle), but he was still toned well. And of course, he had a small patch of hair down his chest. Not much, but it was still there.   
   “Why…?” he asked. Why would Potter want to wash him? Or even touch him or… have a bloody bath with him? Okay, he got that Harry liked him, but Merlin! It was still hard for him to believe any of that was true! What if this was all just some phase and then he’d get rejected again? His heart torn out and tossed on the floor once more?   
  
   Harry didn’t really know why, he just wanted to. He wanted to feel Severus. He wanted to be against him. It felt like a life time ago when they had shared the bed. They were together for crying out loud! It was completely normal to want and desire one another…  
   “Because I-I want to explore you,” he said. His voice was nervous, but he wanted to. He wanted to feel all of Severus against him. He moved forward even more, and he was careful to move through the bubbles as he couldn’t see where anything was below them. He really didn’t want to knee something sensitive.   
  
   As the sponge went against his chest, Snape looked down, Harry’s hand on the other side of it as he’d put soap onto it. He swallowed hard, putting his hand over Harry’s and taking the sponge from it. “I am more than capable.”   
  
   “Do you hate me touching you or something?” asked the Gryffindor.  
  
   Severus just wasn’t used to human contact. He’d been neglected as a child, his only friend had been Lily—and even that had been awkward when they’d ever hugged and touched in a friendly matter. Plus, he had feelings for her, so it was even more embarrassing for him. Now he had feelings for Harry and… it had been so many years since anyone had ever cared for him. It was just strange.   
   He knew he had feelings for Potter, he knew that this was normal. He knew that they should be doing more than just bathing together. They should be comfortable around one another like this, just like most people. But it was difficult. He couldn’t just throw all of those years behind him. It wasn’t that simple. He may be a powerful wizard, but he was still as human as anyone else when it came to his emotions.   
   He also knew that this was probably getting old on Potter and frustrating, but he was not about to change who he was with a click of his fingers. It would take _time_ and constant communication between the two of them. He didn’t want to lose Harry, he didn’t want to disappoint him either. If anything, he wished he could be more supportive and affectionate, but it wasn’t just a switch he could turn on and off.   
   “I do not hate you touching me, Harry, I am just not used to constant affection,” he said quietly. He wasn’t a submissive person, he could easily stand his ground, but this was not something he was experienced in. He knew it wasn’t for Potter, either, but Harry was much more affectionate than he was and ever would be.  
  
   Harry nodded gently, moving back a little, though his hand still on Snape’s chest. “I know it’s awkward feeling… I feel awkward myself, but I want this. I want to be able to feel comfortable around you.”  
  
   “And you assume I do not?”  
  
   “No,” Harry stated. “I know you’re not as affectionate as me, and that’s fine. I can respect that. But I’d like if we could at least try.”   
  
   Snape scoffed. “Do you think I just let any old wizard into my personal quarters to inhabit it? Not to mention sharing a bath with them?”  
  
   Harry let out a gentle breath. “I know… and I appreciate that. It’s great progress, and I like it. I like being with you. But… I do wish things could be more involved.”  
  
   “Because sitting in a tub naked with you isn’t involved enough?” Severus muttered uncomfortably. Merlin, the things he was doing for Harry, and he sounded like a nagging child over it not being enough! He felt like getting out.  
  
   “I know… I’m sorry,” Harry said, moving back to the other side of the bath. “It’s stupid, I should be thankful for what you’re doing, and I am… I’m sorry,” he repeated, feeling guilty about the whole thing. He just really wanted Snape to show he cared and that this wasn’t just because their magic had bonded, but because they had as well.   
  
   Looking across the room, Severus mentally sighed. Goddamn fucking Gryffindors! He moved a little closer. “Harry, I don’t hate you. I like you… quite a lot. And after you… After what you said this evening out by the Quidditch pitch… I may have been thinking on it whilst you were out.”  
  
   Harry felt embarrassed. “I’m sorry… I don’t… I don’t know why it slipped. I mean, I like you, and I like you a lot, but… I’ve never felt this way before. Even with Ginny. Even with Cho.”  
  
   Yes, Snape didn’t need to hear all the other females he’d been with. A sharp pang of jealousy actually struck him in the chest.   
  
   “I don’t know what it is. If it’s our magic, if it’s not. But… I just want to be connected with you. More than just sitting in the same room. I want to feel you.”  
  
   “Believe it or not, Potter, but I do understand,” confessed the Slytherin. He’d been feeling the same things, even if he had been trying to subdue it and push it all away.    
  
   Harry looked up, Severus blurry from being at the other side. Harry’s vision was quite poor without his glasses on, and he could only see a few centimetres away from his eyes clearly. “With…-,”  
  
   “You,” Snape stated bluntly. Yes, he felt it with Lily, too, but that was not who they were talking about. There would always be a part of him that loved Lily—always—but Harry was just as important, and somewhat even more now. Snape may not show it very well, or at all, but he did care for Harry. His feelings for the Gryffindor were stronger than he let on, and much stronger than he showed Harry.   
  
   Hearing that made Harry feel much better, and he could feel his heart thumping in his chest. He instantly remembered that Snape was still unfit. “How is your heart? I mean, talking about this isn’t stressing you out or anything, is it?” he asked, instantly moving closer and putting his hand to the bandage on Snape’s chest.   
  
   Although the conversation was awkward, his heart was actually well paced. He was good at controlling his emotions and subduing them—although Harry was quite good at screwing that up for him.   
   Realising how close the young man was to him, he felt his body stiffen a little. Without his glasses on, and in the candlelight of the bathroom, Harry’s eyes were rather gorgeous. They always were, but the light flickered wonderfully on them.   
  
   “Sev?”  
  
   “Yes, Potter?”   
  
   Harry swallowed gently as Severus was quite clear in his view now as they were close. He was in between the man’s legs, and beneath the water, he could feel the skin against him. Around him, the aroma of Severus’ magic became stronger, and he was unable to hold himself back, moving in to kiss the man on the lips.   
  
   This time, Snape wasn’t surprised, having felt Harry come so close to him. His hand moved to the back of Harry’s neck, deepening the kiss. It was strange how it happened so quickly. Thinking about it all seemed so terrifying and strange, and yet when it happened, it was the most amazing feeling he’d ever surrendered to.   
   Harry’s lips were warm and tender, soft against his own. He gently bit the younger man’s lower lip, pulling on his bottom lip and tasting his sweet skin. Harry gave a very satisfying gasp, and Severus found his hands smoothing down the Gryffindor’s sides at the hairless skin. He could also feel the Gryffindor’s erection against his lower stomach, informing him that Harry was just as excited as he was.   
  
   Feeling the gentle nip, Harry just leant into the Slytherin, his hand going into Snape’s hair, the other slipping down beneath the water to go on Snape’s thigh.   
   God, it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. And this time, it wasn’t a huge blur like their first time, when they had been high on their own magic. But it still felt like a drug, just one that didn’t make everything such a haze.  
   Unwillingly, his pelvis grinded gently against the skin below him. “You taste so good,” he whispered breathlessly as his hand dipped in between Severus’ thighs to explore his body. Through the bubbles, he couldn’t see anything, but his hand soon made perfect images, feeling the patch of hair before the thick member became apparent to his fingertips. Snape was uncut. Nice.  
  
   Snape’s breath caught in his throat at the hot sensation. His member was already throbbing hard, wanting attention. But his heart! He grabbed Harry’s hand with his own beneath the water. “Harry, I can’t… it will get my heart-rate too high.”  
  
   “Control it, you’ll be fine,” Harry urged, running his palm up the length and getting a very satisfying groan from the Slytherin beneath him. He straddled him inside the bath, putting both of his hands to his chest. “I can keep it painless… It should be enough. Just… please. I really want you.”   
  
   Bossy bastard. Harry’s lips were plump and red from their kiss, and as the Gryffindor straddled him, Severus’ arousal only grew harder, almost painful. Soon it was sitting against the warm and inviting crease of Harry’s behind, and the soft, almost hairless chest was in front of him.  
   Leaning forward, he kissed the pectoral, feeling one of Harry’s hands (the other still on his chest) go around the back of his neck, tangling into his hair. Merlin, it felt wonderful. He could feel Harry’s thick erection against his stomach now, his own prodding gently into the opening.   
  
   Harry whimpered as he felt his nipple harden beneath the warm tongue that tantalised it. For someone who hadn’t had any sexual experience before, Snape was actually quite good at exciting him—then again, it wasn’t like he’d had anyone to compare to either. And he didn’t want to.  
   He grinded his backside against the erection beneath him, feeling just how warm it was. And leaning up a little, he readied himself, feeling the head of Snape’s shaft prod at his tight orifice. He winced, gripping Severus’ hair tighter into his hand. He bit his lip, clenching his eyes shut.   
  
   With his hands, Severus let them slip down to Harry’s toned cheeks, spreading them gently so he could access it better. He could do no magic to ease the pain, but the oils inside the bath were enough to make the opening slicker than usual, making for a somewhat comfortable penetration.  
  
   Harry tensed gently, gasping as he felt the thickened member slip inside him. He leant back down and kissed Severus’ lips once more, Snape’s hands going to his hips. And gingerly, he pushed himself up, moving against the Slytherin to get an easy pace between the two of them.  
   “Nnn… oh, God,” he moaned between the kisses. He grabbed his own erection and began to palm it while still moving, his hand on Snape’s chest. His cheeks burned all the time. “Are… are you alright?” he quickly checked, feeling Snape’s muscles tense as he moved.  
  
   “Fine,” Snape breathed, the head of his phallus sinking into Harry’s behind once more, feeling the walls swallow his erection whole before lifting once more. Oh, Merlin, it was so fucking good. Severus found himself unable to control the movements of his hips, his breathing becoming quite rapid.  
  
   Harry felt sweat beginning to bead against his body as he moved his hips in and out to grind against the Slytherin. His body twitched from the tension and pleasure riding through it. His hand soon became rather clenched against Snape’s chest, unable to keep back the moans to his movement.   
   “Nn… oh, Sev… oh, God… I think-” Harry’s body tensed hard as he came against Severus’ stomach beneath the water, panting hard against his shoulder as he leaned over him. He shuddered, moaning gently into the soft skin.   
  
   Severus didn’t know if it was because of their magic being bonded or not, or because it was utterly arousing to see Harry release himself, but he came right after, feeling his load release into Harry’s backside, milking him as the Gryffindor’s body had tensed through orgasm.   
   He breathed gently, his hands still firm on Harry’s hips. Oh Merlin… His body shuddered from the afterglow, and he relaxed against the back of the bath, his hands loosening their grip.  
  
   Harry lifted a hand and ran it though his hair, his muscles tense. “Blimey…” he murmured, feeling Snape’s erection become flaccid and slipping out of him.   
  
   Severus was silent. He didn’t know what to say. It all happened so fast, but it had been wonderful. It had been the most pleasurable thing he’d ever felt. Harry’s hand having stayed on his chest was a good thing, because his heart was pounding inside his chest… Oh shit!  
   Hearing movement from outside, Harry instantly pulled out from being against him. “It subdues the pain, not the rate,” he said, looking down and hearing Poppy call out his name. He put a finger to his lips in warning for Harry to stay quiet.  
  
   From the other room, Poppy Pomfrey knocked on the closed bathroom door. “Severus? Are you in there? I got notified that your heart rate when terribly high! Are you alright?”  
  
   Harry gave a worried look, but Snape’s expression just went blank. “I’m quite fine, Poppy. It just got hot in here for a moment, that’s all. I’ve made sure the bath temperature is more tolerable,” he stated quite bluntly.  
  
   “Are you sure you’re alright in there?” Came Madam Pomfrey’s voice. She didn’t sound convinced.  
  
   Snape rolled his eyes. “Poppy, if you come in here whilst I’m in the bath, no magic or not, I will make you regret it. I said I am fine, it means I am fine. If I need you, I will get someone to collect you.”   
  
   There was a moment of silence, and Harry grew nervous, leaning down in the bath as if he were about to dive under if Madam Pomfrey decided to come in. However, finally the witch seemed to take Snape’s story and give him the all clear, her footsteps retreating.   
   Harry finally exhaled, looking at Snape. “You’re a good liar…” he said, his body relaxing.   
  
   Snape turned back to Harry. “I didn’t lie, Potter. I said I was fine, and I am. And things did get rather heated in here…” he said, the corner of his lips curling. “However, Poppy is rather fussy on her patients, so I suggest we remove ourselves and look presentable.”   
  
   Clever. Harry nodded, though. He quickly washed his body down before reaching for the towel that he’d put on the floor. He grabbed it before standing up and wrapping it around himself, hopping out of the tub.   
   “Do you need a towel?” he asked, Severus washing himself down. He seemed more comfortable at the thought of that, and Harry grabbed one of the spare towels in the bathroom, padding his way over.  
  
   Leaning up, Snape took the towel and stood up, wrapping it around his waist before stepping out. Harry was wrapped up in the large towel, as if it were a cloak. For a Gryffindor, he seemed rather modest about his body. Was it the scars? He’d been meaning to ask about that.   
   As Harry was searching through his clothes, he watched him from the corner of his eyes. “Harry…” he started, the young wizard holding the towel around him as he put on his clothed, hiding himself. Bloody hell, they’d just been intimate and it wasn’t like his body was better. Harry was very attractive, his skin was smooth, a fine colour and nicely toned. How could he ever think he was ugly? Especially when standing next to him. There was no comparison.   
  
   Harry turned when Snape’s hand went to his shoulder, having pulled his pair or red undies on. “Yeah?”   
  
   Snape looked away when the other wizard’s eyes went on him. “I… will give you something to subdue the pain if I harmed you in any way,” he muttered before turning back around.   
  
   Harry’s brows arched a little as Severus turned away. “How did you get so many scars?” he said softly, taking in the man’s back. His hand tightened around the towel he was holding, quickly grabbing his shirt and slipping it over his torso.   
  
   Snape didn’t turn around, he just slipped his pants on beneath the towel before removing it and wiping his upper half down. He then grabbed his fresh shirt and slipped it over his shoulders.   
   “Many battles…” he finally said, turning around to face Harry.   
  
   “I don’t think any less of you because of them.”  
  
   “And you think I do for your own?” Snape asked.   
  
   Harry looked down. “No…” he mumbled. “I just… I suppose so many people expect me to be perfect, when… I’m not.”  
  
   “Scars do not make you imperfect, it simply makes the people who put them there imperfect,” said the Slytherin, doing up his buttons carefully.   
  
   “Did your… family do it?” asked Harry, drying his hair a little with the towel before putting it on the rack.   
  
   Severus pulled his arm sleeves down and patted himself down. “My father was fond of alcohol, Potter. He was not… physically abusive as much as he was mentally, but he did tend to take his anger out of my mother and myself occasionally,” he confessed.   
   Snape pointed to his neck that had no cravat covering it. “Of course, that is from Nagini. Some are from the Dark Lord.” To be honest, he wasn’t horribly marred or anything, but there were a few scars down his chest and back. “Your Godfather broke my nose at least once.”   
  
   Harry swallowed awkwardly, feeling guilty. “I like your nose,” he said, as if it would salvage the issue.   
  
   “And I like your back. You are an attractive young wizard, Harry,” said Snape, approaching him, even though feeling an awkward flush on his face. He lifted a hand to Harry’s cheek and looked down at him, his glasses now covering his eyes.   
   “You are not responsible for your aunt and uncle’s disgusting behaviour, as I am not for my father’s.” Severus had come to terms with that long ago. He would not sit there like a helpless victim. He had made that clear when he’d stood up for himself from James and his friends.   
  
   Harry felt his lips crease into a gentle smile, Snape’s hand leaving him.  
  
   “I must go check in with Madam Pomfrey. I assume you can take care of yourself for fifteen minutes?” the Potions master drawled as he made himself presentable once more.   
  
   Despite having had sex for the second time now, it hadn’t seemed like that big of a deal this time. Yes, they’d had sex, but after it happened, it didn’t feel as embarrassing as he thought it would. It was kind of quick. He figured it being in the bath and with Madam Pomfrey coming in it sort of ruined the afterglow, but he was sure Snape wasn’t the kind of man to want cuddles afterwards.   
   “I think I can manage that,” he grinned, Severus giving him that signature glare. “I’ll be fine, I promise.” When Snape seemed satisfied by the answer, he bit his lip and put his hand out, tugging on Snape’s arm.  
  
   Snape turned. “Is there something I missed?”  
  
   “I… I know we’ve had our ups and downs, and I know we’ve done mean things to each other, but… I like us,” Harry said, feeling himself flush. “I like being able to do things with you. I think there’s more to you that you don’t let others see, and I’m okay with that. I know you’re just protecting yourself. I don’t blame you… but… I like that you can be open with me.”  
  
   Severus’ expression went blank. He could not say he was completely open and honest with Potter. He still had many things he had not told Harry. About his past, of course. Nothing really new now, but there were still things Harry didn’t know about him.   
   He nodded gently. For lack of better words, he simply repeated Harry, “I like us, too, Potter.” It seemed to suffice as Harry’s rich lips turned into a light smile. “I will come back after I have checked in with Poppy.”   
  
   Letting go of Snape’s arm, Harry nodded. He had homework to do anyway, so he figured that could keep him busy. He’d like to go and see Ron and Hermione as well, but he’d see them at dinner. Right now, he wanted to relish in the fact that he and Snape had just, for the second time, been intimate.


	30. Glow

Chapter Thirty: Glow.  
  
   When Snape left, Harry ended up leaving as well. Just in case Severus came back before him, he wrote a note and sat it on the bed, telling him that he was going to see Ron and Hermione. Now that he was clean and in fresh clothes, he wanted to see his friends before dinner.   
   He’d gone to the common room, but they weren’t there. Neville, instead, was sitting inside. “Hey Neville,” he said. Neville was reading a book on various magical plants and fungi—like usual.   
  
   “Hey, Harry. Where have you been?” asked the other Gryffindor.   
  
   Considering Neville was terrified of Professor Snape (still), Harry hadn’t really talked to him about the whole thing. Neville didn’t seem comfortable about the subject—which he saw coming. But he still wanted Neville to get over his fear. Snape wasn’t even that bad anymore! You just had to make him know he couldn’t always win. He could be a real arse, but underneath all that was actually a pretty reasonable (?) person.   
   “I… was with Snape,” he said, seeing Neville look back to the page he’d been reading. “I know it’s not comfortable for you, Neville, but you have to really get over this fear you have. He’s not even that bad anymore…”  
  
   Neville was always horrible at Potions, so he was more than grateful that he wasn’t taking it this year. He hadn’t had to deal with Snape at all, and it had been wonderful. But finding out Harry and he were in a relationship? Neville found it hard to even _look_ at Harry because it made him nervous and turned his ears red.  
  
   “Look, Neville… you took on a snake… a Horcrux, even, and you’re still afraid of Snape?” asked Harry, brows arched and eyes wide.   
  
   Neville stopped reading. “I know… but he’s still scary.” He wasn’t as nearly as scared of him as he once was within his first few years. Lupin helped him with the Boggart in their third year.   
  
   Harry couldn’t help but laugh. Okay, Snape could still be scary, he knew that. “Yeah, okay, but c’mon… All this time, he turned out to be one of the good guys. One of us. I know I hated him before I knew the truth… but I’m glad I know it, because it means I know he’s not as evil as we all thought he was. He just played his part bloody-well brilliantly.”   
  
   The other boy still felt uneasy. “I’m not saying I’m against your relationship, Harry. I think you and Snape have good magic, and it’s probably a strong bond (God, was it ever), but he still makes me nervous,” admitted Neville. “And he was still a Death Eater at one point in time.”  
  
   Yeah, Harry knew that. Snape wasn’t exactly the nicest of people, especially when he was younger. He was very bitter, but also very confused and wanted to belong. Didn’t everyone want to belong somewhere? Well, that’s how Harry saw it, anyway. It didn’t justify his actions, no, but he had certainly made up for them in his eyes.  
  
   Looking back at Harry, Neville put his book down. “You’ve been with him, haven’t you?”  
  
   Harry looked at the other boy in confusion. Of course he’d been with Snape, he just said that before. “Yeah… I already told you I was just with him.”  
  
   “No, I mean…” Neville stopped, feeling his cheeks go pink. “I might not be good at Potions, but I do know bits and pieces about Ancient Magic, and… I can smell yours. It’s actually quite potent. And excitement does that, or anger, or anything that uses lots of energy. I have a feeling you’d be more angry if you and Professor Snape had a fight…”  
  
   What!? People could… _tell_ if they’d had sex!? Harry felt his own cheeks go red in horror at that. Did Snape know this? He’d just gone to the bloody hospital-wing. Thank God not everyone knew about this Ancient Magic, otherwise students everywhere would know… He felt highly embarrassed now.  
   “N-no… well, I mean, yeah, we were together, but… not like _that_ ,” he tried to cover up. Neville just gave him an odd look. “You could have told me this before, you know?”  
  
   “I don’t care, Harry. Like I said, your magic is strong. Why not bond to someone like Snape? He’s powerful.” He personally never would have thought about that, as Snape terrified him, but Harry was a strong wizard. “Not a lot is known about this specific magic still, even if it’s old… I thought Snape might have known…”   
  
   If he did, he certainly didn’t tell him! Harry felt almost guilty. He knew Snape was more than a dick to Neville in class. Hell, he was a dick to him as well. Sometimes Harry really did wonder how the hell they had both come to like each other. But something in Snape had changed when he was bitten. Knowing the truth _did_ change everything, and it changed the way he looked at Snape.   
   He knew Snape was still a prick sometimes. It wasn’t something he could just switch off, but he had toned down at least a little bit. Potions classes weren’t nearly as bad as they once were now that Voldemort was gone. Things _had_ changed. Snape may still be bitter about his past, but that didn’t mean he was still that cruel.   
   “Neville… do you remember that time with Umbridge? When she caught us about to sneak out?” Neville looked up, nodding. “You remember how Snape told Crabbe to loosen his grip on you?”  
  
   “Yeah… so?” asked Neville.   
  
   “Don’t you realise that if Snape really did hate you, that he would have been more than happy to see you being strangled by one of his Slytherins?” Harry’s voice was calm, but formal. He’d seen Snape do many things, things that sometimes came off as bad, but were in fact good.   
  
   “I doubt Professor Snape would have cared if I got strangled. He probably only did it so he wouldn’t get into trouble from Dumbledore.”  
  
   “Dumbledore had no power, it was all Umbridge. She even put him on probation, don’t you remember?” Harry tried not to laugh at the mental image of Snape bowing sarcastically to her. “Umbridge could have sacked him right then and there for not being helpful and then downright disobeying an order by telling Crabbe to let go of you. We all know she enjoyed it.” The bitch.   
   “Look, I know it might not seem it… but Snape does care about the students here at Hogwarts. Yeah, he favours Slytherin like no tomorrow, and he’s done some mean things to me over the time as well, but… a lot of it was because he was trying to help me. He just couldn’t do it nicely because it would have given him away. I’m not saying he wasn’t a jerk—he was! But… a lot has changed since Voldemort, including Snape.” Not to mention Harry had been a constant reminder of James, and Lily never being his.  
  
   Neville was quiet for a moment, taking everything in. He was thankful that Professor Snape had told Crabbe to let go of him, but even so. He still scared him and treated him poorly when he’d taken Potions.   
   “He’s still scary… Still scarier than Nagini anyway,” he said.   
  
   Harry shook his head. “Well, you don’t have Potions with him anymore anyway, so you don’t have to worry about him… I thought you wanted to be an Auror… Isn’t Potions a must?”  
  
   “It is, yeah, but… I was thinking of moving into something more to do with plants. Maybe even becoming a professor here,” Neville said, a little enthusiasm finally showing on his face.  
  
   “Well… you’d be good at it… But if you want to be an Auror… I could put in a good word for you. It doesn’t have to be Snape, I could help you. Hermione could.”  
  
   “I… I wouldn’t want to be any trouble, Harry. A-and I don’t think Professor Snape would let me. He even refused you and Ron because your marks weren’t Outstanding. I can’t see why he’d let me back in, and I don’t know if I can survive another year of Potions.”  
  
   Harry mentally rolled his eyes. “It’s not that bad,” he reassured. “I’ll talk to McGonagall. We’ve still got heaps of the school year left, and missing out on an opportunity like that would be a mistake.” Plus, if he talked to McGonagall about it, Snape couldn’t refuse. He pretty much bended over backwards for her and Dumbledore. Snape _was_ loyal.     
  
   “Y-you’d really talk to her about it?” Something in Neville didn’t want to go back to Potions. He wanted to be an Auror with Harry and Ron, of course. But… Potions… “You won’t ask Professor Snape, will you?”   
  
   “He’ll soon know about it, Neville. I’d rather tell him to lay off you than to be cruel to you your first day back.”   
  
   Neville looked down. “I-I don’t know, Harry.”  
  
   “Come on, it’s worth a try, Neville. And if not, then you’d be a great professor.”   
  
   Neville nodded, looking back down to his book. He felt guilty that he was still scared around Snape. “I still support you, Harry… You’re still my friend,” he made clear.   
  
   The other Gryffindor nodded. “Thanks, Neville,” he said, standing back up. Neville informed him that Ron and Hermione had gone to the library (on the weekend, Ron was whipped), so he soon headed down there.   
   Paranoid that everyone could sense his magic, he tried to take as many back routs as possible. When walking down one of the back corridors, he ran into Severus, making him stop.   
   “What are you doing taking the back ally?” he asked.  
  
   Severus raised a brow. “I could ask you the same thing, Potter. Then again, it’s nothing new for you to be roaming out of bounds.”   
  
   Harry shrank into his shoulders, feeling awkward. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of Snape, but people knowing they’d just had sex? That was embarrassing! No one needed to know that!   
   “People can tell…” he said softly, though looking at Snape. “They can tell we’ve-,”  
  
   “Yes, I just had a very uncomfortable conversation with Madam Pomfrey I would have preferred not to have,” Severus muttered awkwardly.  
  
   Harry felt his cheeks go a bit warm. “Will it always be like this?”  
  
   Severus didn’t know the full extent of this particular magic. He was actually headed to the library right now so he could research on it, because if that were the case, then it would be very embarrassing. What he and Harry did in their private time was for them to know, and them to know only.   
   “I am unsure of that. I thought I might research in the library if they had anything.” It would only been in something in the restricted section, so better he do it than Harry.  
  
   Something Snape didn’t know? Somehow that didn’t make Harry feel good right now. “I was just headed there myself… To find Ron and Hermione, that is,” he added on the end as they’d met at the corridor they’d both need to go down.   
   “Are you allowed to use magic yet?” he asked, starting to move down the corridor.   
  
   “Yes, I am,” stated Severus. Thank Merlin. He was very tired of not being able to use his magic. “Of course, nothing too powerful. Madam Pomfrey said it would be wise to abstain from using it for a few more days, but as long as it’s simple magic, it should not weaken me.”   
  
   When was magic ever simple? “So what can you do? I’m guessing no Patronus.”  
  
   Of course not. “Every witch and wizard is different, Potter. I’m not about to summon something silly just for the sake of showing off,” he muttered, looking down at Harry as they were still walking.   
  
   Harry chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose.” And then it struck him. This meant that he wouldn’t be able to stay with Severus anymore. After all, why? Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall had only allowed him to because of his magic, and to lower Snape’s stress levels. Now that he was able to be by himself… he’d have to return to Gryffindor Tower.   
   “Does this mean… I can’t stay with you anymore?” he asked, looking back up to Snape as they continued walking. The man gave him a quick glance before looking back ahead.  
  
   “The Headmistress was not in the hospital wing at the time (thank Merlin), but she did send an owl which I intercepted on the way, saying it would be best if you returned to your common room when I am clear with Poppy, if only to subdue the students,” explained Snape.  
  
   “Figures,” Harry mumbled. “I don’t want to have to go, though. I like staying with you.” He stopped, which made Severus stop, turning and looking at him. “Besides… it’s not like she was there to see your check up.”   
  
   “Potter, when have you ever obeyed school rules?” Severus mused, raising a brow.   
  
   The Cloak! “Well…” he murmured cheekily, Snape continuing to walk. Very Slytherin of Severus, Harry thought.   
   He bit his lip in thought. Should he ask about Neville? Neville wanted to be an Auror. The worst thing Snape could say was a no. And if that was his answer, then he’d go to McGonagall. She was always willing to help students better themselves.  
   “Professor, I just had a talk with Neville, and he wants to be an Auror-,”  
  
   “I can see where this is going,” Snape muttered. “Neville Longbottom’s scores were lower than yours, Potter, and I barely allowed you back into my class.” Hell, he didn’t even! He was forced to do it!  
  
   “He’s only bad because you make him so nervous!” Harry said. He knew it sounded stupid, especially considering how many things Neville had stood up to, but it wasn’t like Snape made it easy for him.   
  
   Snape raised an amused brow. “Potter, if you’re going to insist I take him into my classes, then he is going to have to prove to me that he is capable. You, yourself, had extra lessons with me, simply because the Headmistress forced it upon us.”  
  
   “I won’t make you have lessons with him,” Harry promised, after all, he doubted that would make things better on any of them. “Hermione’s always up to teaching more. And I can help. You’ve taught me loads of things.”  
  
   Severus gave an impressed facial. “Either way, I know what you’re going to do if I say no. You’ll run straight up to the Headmitress and beg her, and Professor McGonagall would be more than willing to throw another student at me. I have a feeling I have little of a choice…” he drawled.   
  
   Harry gave an innocent grin. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he smiled. Snape just gave him an unsatisfied expression. “Just don’t be so hard on him…”  
  
   “I would have thought being a member of Dumbledore’s Army would have made Longbottom less frightened of me.” There was a light sense of amusement in Severus’ voice now.  
  
   “Yeah…” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, “I thought so, too. But… turns out you’re just a big, scary professor.”  
  
   Severus could have snorted.  
  
   “So… you will think about it, right?” asked the Gryffindor, looking up through his glasses.  
  
   Snape gave a scoff. “I promise you nothing, Potter, but I _may_ think about it,” he mumbled. He already knew he had no damn choice, but he acted as if he had the upper hand here. He wasn’t going to let Harry think he had no power whatsoever over the situation.  
  
   Harry grinned. As cruel as Snape could be, it just took the right tone of words to get him working the way you wanted him to. Although he had a feeling Snape wouldn’t give in so easily if he hated him still…  
   The rest of the walk was fairly quiet, and once they reached the library they parted ways. Snape told him that if he found anything he would share it with him back in his office. Harry spotted Ron and Hermione and moved over to them, taking a seat.  
  
   “Harry you’re… you look… different,” said Ron, arching a brow. He didn’t know as much about this Ancient Magic as Hermione had. In fact, he knew little about it at all. Everything he knew about it had been told by Harry or Hermione.   
  
   “Um… thanks?” Harry said, shrinking into his shoulders as he tried not to let this ‘glow’ affect him too much. Hermione, however, looked down at her book, hiding a smirk. He kicked her under the table, making her flinch and whisper an apology.  
  
   “No, really… It’s weird. It’s like… you’re glowing or something. Like Mum when she was pregnant with Ginny… And you… smell good, too…” Now Ron gave his friend a very curious and odd look.   
  
   “I had a bath…” Harry said, as if it were nothing. “Very nice of you to notice, Ron,” he grinned, trying to hide the fact that it was from Snape.   
  
   Ron gave an embarrassed look. “Well, the soap we use never smells that good. I say we’re getting ripped off…”  
  
   “Well, don’t worry, I’ll be in the regular bathrooms again soon. Now that Professor Snape is well enough to look after himself, I have to return to Gryffindor Tower.”   
  
   “Oh,” Hermione said, frowning. “Well, I suppose McGonagall has her reasons. Although, with the rumours having died down, I would have thought that it’d be okay to stay.”  
  
   “I didn’t talk to her personally, so I’m not exactly sure what she said.” And he hadn’t asked for the letter off Snape.  
  
   “How do you know Snape’s not lying? Wouldn’t be the first time…” Ron mumbled.  
  
   Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t, but I don’t really think he’d lie about something like that.” What was his problem, anyway? He thought Ron was getting over the fact that he and Snape were dating now.   
  
   “Yeah… I suppose. You two are pretty close these days. Anyway, dinner is going to be ready soon and I’m hungry, so I’ll meet you guys there,” said Ron, standing up and packing his books up before walking away.  
  
   “What was all that about?” Harry asked, looking to the girl who remained.   
  
   Hermione looked down at her open books, her shoulders moving a little uneasily. “Harry… it’s not your fault, it’s just… ever since you and Snape have been… you know? Well… I think Ron’s… jealous.”  
  
   “Jealous? He _hates_ Snape!”  
  
   “Not jealous of that,” Hermione said, “You know what I mean, Harry. Jealous that we haven’t had… sex… while you have.” Her voice was quiet when she spoke, and highly embarrassed.   
  
   “Oh…” Harry didn’t know what to say. He figured Ron would have said something about this to him before… He was never sure how involved Ron and Hermione had been with one another. They always seemed a bit odd about showing public forms of affection.     
   “But… it’s… not like that,” he tried to say. “I mean… we haven’t even done much. Snape’s not exactly the most out there kinda guy,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.   
  
   “That’s not the way Ron sees him,” Hermione sighed. “And Harry… you have got to be more careful! Ron may not know about your magic, but I do, and you’re glowing. If he knew, he would have been even more troublesome…”   
  
   Harry felt guilty. He shouldn’t feel guilty at all! What he and Severus did was their own personal business. But why was Ron being like this? He got the fact that he wanted to be intimate with his girlfriend, after all, he wanted the same thing with Snape. He was still getting used to the fact that he liked men! It may not be anything new in the wizarding world, but to him it was still very confusing and challenging. Here at Hogwarts it wasn’t so bad, but when he stepped outside? He didn’t know what to expect from the general public seeing him and Severus walking around together.  
   “Yeah… neither of us knew that…” he said awkwardly, putting his elbows onto the table. “Snape’s gone searching for information about it, so hopefully we’ll both know more about the whole thing by tonight—er… I mean, just theory-wise,” he added embarrassedly. “I-I didn’t lie to Ron, I really did have a bath.”   
  
   “I believe you,” Hermione nodded. “But be more careful. If you two want to stay together, then you’re going to have to be more discreet during school.”   
  
   Yeah, he got it. He also understood why Snape wasn’t as open and showy as well. He understood that their relationship might not be flying around as much as it was before, but it could still cause a disturbance, and McGonagall could still get them into severe trouble. Thank God this was his final year, and then he and Severus could truly be together.  
   “I’m sorry Ron’s acting out. He shouldn’t be… It’s… not all as it’s cracked up to be, you know?” he said. Okay, that was a lie, he was just being modest. Being with Severus was amazing, and one of the most amazing things he’d ever felt. But that could have been simply because of their magic. It eased the pain he knew was there. It helped the pleasure increase. He doubted it would have been that intense if their magic hadn’t bonded.   
  
   Hermione shook her head. “Harry, you don’t need to make me feel better. I know what you and Snape share is… not as regular as every other witch or wizard.”   
  
   Looking down, Harry felt embarrassed. But he didn’t want to make Hermione feel bad. It was nothing to brag about, and he wouldn’t anyway. What he and Snape did, no one else needed to know what it felt like.  
   “Why haven’t you? If you don’t mind me asking,” he said curiously. He didn’t want Hermione to be uncomfortable, but the both of them had common respect for one another.   
  
   Hermione just shrugged. She was a girl with respect. She didn’t just drop everything for any guy. She loved Ron, yes, but they were still in school. Her studies were important to her, and to be honest, it was a little bit frightening. She always thought she would be married before anything like that would happen.   
   “I suppose the thought… scares me a little,” she admitted. “I mean, of course I love Ron, and… I’m attracted to him, but I guess the thought worries me. I’m worried it could change things. I’m worried it could make things worse. I know I might sound silly, considering all we’ve been through, but look how long it actually took us to admit our feelings to one another. Besides, we’re at school now, and that’s just wrong! I’d never be that disrespectful.”  
  
   “Disrespectful?” Harry asked. Did that make him and Snape disrespectful because they had shared something passionate with one another? It wasn’t just sex to him, if that’s what Hermione was thinking. He didn’t think it was with Snape, either… But… he’d never asked. It just sort of happened both times.   
  
   “Well, in the sense that we’re both students, and we sleep in dorms. It’s hardly appropriate to sneak out and do something like that in such a filthy place. I want it to be something special,” said Hermione.   
   “I don’t mean anything against you or Snape. What you have is different. One, your magic is bonded, so it was bound to happen sooner or later,” she said with a wave of her hand, “And two, Professor Snape has his own quarters. At least it’s private. Plus, he’s not a student.”   
  
   No, he was a professor, which would be ten times worse if they were doing this without their magic having been bonded. He doubted anything would have gone this smoothly. Well… as smooth as it had been, anyway. He wouldn’t exactly call the last few months ‘smooth’.   
   “Well, I’m no expert, Hermione… and I’m not gunna pretend to be one. Things are awkward, but… they get better. And I hear over time it hurts less, if you’re worried about that. Although, to be fair… you wouldn’t exactly do things the way we do.”  
  
   Hermione tried to keep an embarrassed laugh back. “Well, I’m happy at least one of us is exploring.”  
  
   Harry smirked. “Yeah… well… I wouldn’t say by much. Snape’s not exactly the kind of guy who goes around looking for that kinda stuff. I dunno how Ron thinks that… From all the years he called him names and a virgin…”  
  
   A sad smile crossed Hermione’s face. “He’s just being bitter about the whole thing,” she tried to reassure him. “It’s not been easy on him. His best friend starting to like someone older than him, then being sexually active. Plus… you know Ron’s thoughts on Snape. He’s just thinking the worst things possible. That you’re either his toy or he’s abusing you.”   
  
   What!? Is that seriously how Ron saw Snape!? Okay, so he knew he didn’t _like_ him, and he didn’t like them dating, but seriously!? Snape had spent his whole life here at Hogwarts _protecting_ him! Sure, he could have been nicer about it, but that was beside the point! Severus was nothing _like_ that!   
   So Severus may not be submissive, he was clearly the more dominant one in the relationship, but that didn’t mean he was abusive. If anything, it was Harry who pushed needily when it came to them having sex twice. God… what if he’d pushed Severus when he didn’t really want it?   
   “Just what has he been saying?” he asked, Hermione hushing him as a reminder that they were in the library. His voice had raised a little and he didn’t realise. He apologised and looked around once more before repeating the question.   
  
   She shouldn’t really be repeating any of this. It wasn’t like Ron had told her not to, but did he really have to by now? But Harry was her best friend as well. He did have the right to know.     
   “Silly things, Harry, and nothing that’s true, I know,” she tried to reassure the other. When Harry didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, she sighed. “Alright, but _don’t_ go make a big deal out of it, okay?”  
  
   “Just tell me, Hermione.” By now, Harry was losing his patience.   
  
   “Just that… I can’t really remember it off by heart, but just stupid things, like Snape hurting you. Making you do things that you don’t want to do. He thinks… He thinks Snape is manipulating your mind…”  
  
   “What!?” Harry winced as he realised he’d been loud again, getting the attention of a few other students. They gradually turned away soon enough. “Why would he think something like that? If that’s really how he feels, then why isn’t he coming up to me and telling me this!? Why is he just saying it all behind my back?”   
  
   “I told you, because he knows it’s not true. He’s just being bitter…” Hermione shook her head tiredly. “He refuses to see anything good in Professor Snape. And now being jealous of the whole sex thing, it’s just… It’s getting to him. He probably doesn’t want to tell you because he’s embarrassed about it all. Because, let’s face it, we all know that’s not happening.”  
  
   Damn right it wasn’t happening! Snape had tried and tried to fight his feelings only to finally ‘try’ and deal with them. They had sex because he gave into Harry both times. He could have said no both times. He could have even made move after move if he wanted to. Snape was strong and much taller than he was. He could easily overpower him if he wanted to.   
   Harry shook his head. He didn’t want Hermione to get into trouble, but he didn’t want Ron getting away with what he was saying either. He wouldn’t do that to Hermione, but he didn’t know if he could just push it all aside at the same time.   
  
   “I’m sorry, Harry…” said the girl, looking down. “I’ll try and talk some sense into Ron tonight. Dinner’s going to be ready soon, and you should be fine walking around now anyway. Your glow is starting to wear off.”  
  
   Harry looked down at himself, as if he could see it (though he couldn’t). He nodded silently, and the both of them headed to the Great Hall for dinner.  
  
*****       
   Harry had to pretend that the conversation about Snape and him didn’t happen in the library while he sat next to Ron during dinner. He was thankful that he still had to go back to Snape’s quarters as he needed to collect his things.   
   He wasn’t looking forward to leaving. Sleeping in the Gryffindor common room seemed like a strange thought now considering he’d been down with Snape for two weeks now. It sounded silly, he knew, but he was going to miss it a lot. Severus, obviously, but also Fawkes as well. Spells would have to come back up with him, too.   
   He walked as quickly as possible down to the dungeons, avoiding the Slytherins on the way. The faster he got there, the more time he could at least spend with Snape before he had to return to his own dormitory for the night.   
   When he reached Snape’s office, he was about to knock, but stopped when he heard that someone else was inside. He didn’t want to just barge in uncomfortably, so instead, he lowered his hand. It was Draco Malfoy. There was no mistaking his voice.  
  
   “Father’s been asking questions, Professor,” said the blonde haired Slytherin. “Personally, I don’t care what you do with Potter, but… I want to know the truth.”  
  
   “If you don’t care, then why ask?” said Snape, sitting behind his desk, with his hands linked on the table.   
  
   “Because you…!” Malfoy sighed. “You know what you did for me on the Astronomy Tower… I thought by now we would have been more than just student and professor…”  
  
   Friends? Snape kept a blank expression. “Draco, your father and I have our pasts, but I make no illusion to his loyalties.”   
  
   “I know…” said Malfoy. “Nor do I. In fact, my mother has been meaning to thank you.”  
  
   “Yes, I received her letter a while back. I have not had the time to write back, as I was bedridden and spending most of my time making sure my classes aren’t a complete mess when I return,” Snape explained.   
  
   Harry listened from the door. Letters? He got letters from the Malfoys? Harry realised he knew little about what Snape actually did with other people. The last few weeks he’d been so hung up on their relationship that he’d never even bothered to ask and get to know what Severus did in his real spare time. Not school time, but outside of school. Something in his gut didn’t settle well. Snape had been friends with Death Eaters…  
  
   “I assume you’ve seen the evening addition of the paper?” asked Draco. “They’ve captured the ring leaders of the Death Eaters. I suppose this means most of the others will be turned in. You’re lucky that the one that tried to kill you ended up spilling so many names. I tried to visit you, but… Potter was there.”  
  
   “That does not surprise me,” Snape mused. “Death Eaters never really were loyal to one another once captured. They’d sell their own mother if it meant an escape from Azkaban.” He made no comment about Harry.  
  
   “Yes, but it makes things easier for you and I. You’re not the only one they’ve been after, Severus. We should be able to come out of hiding now.”  
  
   Severus? Draco called him by his first name? Harry’s brow furrowed.   
  
   “I’m well aware, Draco. I have been keeping an eye on you. I made a vow to protect you. Although the Dark Lord is gone, and that no longer stands, I still do not wish for your life to be in danger.”  
  
   “Yes, but with Potter…”  
  
   “What of him?” This time, Snape’s voice was sharp.  
  
   There was a pause before Draco spoke once more. “Did you… always have feelings for him? You certainly fooled everyone if so.”  
  
   Everyone said that, and it was rather annoying. “What my feelings are towards Harry Potter is not really any of your concern, Mister Malfoy. I owed a debt to the Potter family, and I fulfilled it in protecting Potter whilst he attended school here. Anything beyond that, you needn’t worry about.”  
  
   Needn’t worry about? Harry felt his insides clench a little. Why couldn’t Severus just say it? He liked him, didn’t he? It would be nice to hear Snape saying something good about him to people every once in a while…  
   He heard movement, knowing Malfoy was going to come out. While he was thinking, he hadn’t heard the last of the conversation. He moved back a bit, as if he had just arrived, the door swinging open.   
  
   Malfoy looked at Harry. They weren’t enemies any longer, so there wasn’t any reason to be cruel. Plus, Draco had matured a lot, understanding who he was now compared to when he was under orders from Voldemort.   
   “Potter…” he noted. He gave a small nod of his head and held the door open, the Gryffindor giving him an odd look. “If you and Professor Snape, a family friend of the Malfoy’s, really are together… then I will show you my respects.”  
  
   Harry didn’t know what to say. Draco Malfoy? Holding the door open for him? Harry shook his head. “There’s no need for that, but thanks,” he said, nodding politely as he headed inside. He closed the door behind him, looking at Snape.   
   “What the hell was that about?”   
  
   Severus gave a shrug. “I am no stranger to the Malfoy family,” he said calmly. By the look on Harry’s face, he’d been standing there for quite some time. “You do realise there’s no need to wait outside if you wish to come in here. I’d rather you not eves drop.”   
  
   A frown covered Harry’s face. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing his arm. “I didn’t realise you and Draco were close. I mean, I knew you were looking out for him and what you did for Dumbledore.”  
  
   “Lucius and I do go back since our time here at Hogwarts, Harry,” said Snape, leaning back into his chair. “Before his cowardice, he was quite a stunning wizard. He is attempting to redeem himself. But I make no mistake in knowing who he is. And before you get any ideas, I don’t make a habit of discussing my personal life with others that needn’t know if it.”  
  
   Harry felt a little guilty, but he saw the evening addition of the _Prophet_ on the desk. “I heard the good news, though. The Death Eaters, most of them being captured. That means you can return home through the holidays, right?”  
  
   Not that Spinner’s End was really a home to him, but Snape nodded. “It does.”   
  
   Harry wanted to pluck up the courage to ask if he could stay with him, or visit him, but instead, he went silent for a moment. “Well, that’s good… I just came to get my stuff…” he murmured disappointedly.   
  
   Severus noted the tone in Harry’s voice. He stood up from his desk and grabbed the letter that McGonagall had given him. “Unless there is a specified date on this letter, I don’t see why you have to leave tonight,” he said, holding it up.  
  
   Adjusting his glasses, Harry quickly read through it. “But… you don’t need me taking care of you anymore…” he said, Snape putting his hand back down.   
  
   “I don’t think my heart is ready to let you go just yet, Potter,” Severus said, a small smirk creasing his lips. “Besides, I recall you promising that you would have all of your homework done before Monday. It’s Sunday, Potter, and still not finished. You best hurry.” His arm lifted in the direction of the bedroom where Harry’s books still were.   
  
   He was serious? Harry’s stomach was suddenly flipping with joy. “You think you could help me?” he asked.   
  
   Severus scoffed. “And potentially give Gryffindor House points?”  
  
   Harry just shook his head before heading into the other room.


	31. Bodies

Chapter Thirty One: Bodies.   
  
   Harry was on his stomach, lying on the bed with his homework in front of him. Severus was reading the book he’d borrowed from the library on his own bed, propped up against his pillows and still dressed. He’s taken his boots and coat off, his collar loose from its usual tight dress.   
   He could hear Harry scratching onto the parchment with his quill. He’d told him five times already to sit up and write, use the desk, make sure he didn’t spill his ink. Harry kept slouching back down to this position, though. He gathered it was a childhood thing. Something he was used to. Did the Dursleys not have a desk in their house?   
   He concentrated back on the book in his hands. There wasn’t much on the whole magical bond, but it was all he could find. It was still very Ancient Magic, and nowadays, it was known less and less to happen with witches and wizards. It was considered rare.  
  
   “You look nice when you read,” said Harry, having stopped his homework.   
  
   Severus lowered the book, arching a brow. “You’re tolerable when quiet,” he snipped back.   
  
   Harry grinned and pushed his work aside, sitting himself up and crossing his legs. He was now changed into his pyjamas—a T-shirt and come baggy pants. Fawkes was perched on his nightstand, fluffed up and looking comfortable. Spells was out hunting.   
   “Did you find anything?” he asked, scooting himself a little forward on the single made bed he was on.   
  
   Pushing himself up, Severus stepped off the bed and put the book down in front of Harry.  
  
   “You’re not gunna make me read more are you? I just did an essay for Professor McGonagall’s class.”  
  
   Fine. Snape picked the book back up into his hands. “It just states most of what we know. The strong desire to be together. That one can lose their mind if far apart for too long. These are not symptoms that last forever. Eventually it does calm. It is a permanent bond, however,” he stated. “Something about destiny,” he added in a clerical voice.   
   To be honest, he’d stared at that word for much longer than he thought he would. Destiny? Really? Him and Potter? He could have laughed considering what the start of their relationship at Hogwarts had been like. Destiny? Yes, Destiny really enjoyed being a bitch then, didn’t they? He didn’t know what to believe. He knew prophecies were true, but this? Him and Harry? He honestly didn’t know what to think about that…   
  
   Harry tried not to let the whole ‘destiny’ thing get to him. “Anything about when the effects wear off after… you know… shagging?”  
  
   “ _’Bonded witches and wizards may experience a temporary glow after being intimate with their bondmate. These glowing periods vary from witch to wizard, but usually die down ten minutes after sexual release’_ ,” Snape quoted. “ _’Glows may also be apparent when bonded couples experience something exciting or traumatic, such as sexual arousal or arguments that pumps the blood’_.”   
  
   Harry really did love when Snape read out in that tone of voice. Snape’s voice had always sent shivers down his spine, but because it was so cold and he knew he was in trouble. Now it had a whole different meaning. It was utterly alluring.  
   “Well, we’ve argued before…” he stated. “I don’t think we glowed then…”  
  
   Severus closed the book and put it onto the nightstand. It honestly hadn’t been much of a help and there were missing pages—utterly frustrating. “We can’t see the glow, that is the problem,” he said.   
  
   “Does this mean… the first time? Did McGonagall know because we were glowing?”  
  
   “No,” Severus stated, shaking his head. “It had been hours since we had consummated our relationship. The glow would have been long gone. She knew because your shirt was in the other room and… Well, we weren’t exactly careful, were we? She had intercepted Rita Skeeter.”  
  
   No, that whole night had been a magical high. “So, this just means we have to be careful then, right? Just means we can’t have any quickies between classes,” Harry laughed.   
  
   Severus rolled his eyes. “Indeed.”   
  
   Harry looked down at his hands in his lap for a moment. He still hadn’t gotten Ron out of his mind. He knew it was stupid to let Ron get to him out of jealousy, but it did raise the question on how Severus felt about it. He didn’t need images like that swimming around his head.  
   “Severus… do you like… being with me?” he asked, looking back up. Snape was giving him an odd look. One that he couldn’t exactly read. He did that a lot, though. He was about to say something sarcastic.  
  
   “No, I keep you around as a pet, Potter. You’re a nuisance,” said the Potions master sarcastically (bingo!). “If I didn’t, I certainly wouldn’t let you stay here in my quarters. Let alone the other things we’ve done,” he muttered to himself.   
  
   “That’s what I’m talking about. The other stuff,” said Harry. “I mean, I know you’re reserved and everything, but… I’m not forcing you or anything, am I? I know I can come off a bit strong sometimes, but you’re not just doing it to please me, are you?”   
  
   Severus’ brow furrowed. What had brought this on? “Where did this come from?”   
  
   Harry stood up this time in his baggy pyjamas. “I was thinking about the bond and stuff today in the library. And… well, you know Hermione noticed. You’re not ignorant to how smart she is.”  
  
   “I don’t assume Miss Granger would have said something such as that.” Or Severus certainly didn’t take her for someone like that.  
  
   “No, it’s not that.” Argh, he didn’t want to have to tell Snape about Ron. It wasn’t like Severus would give a crap about his friend’s opinions anyway, but still. This was about Harry forcing Snape, not Ron thinking Snape was the one doing it to him.   
   “She didn’t say anything like that. It was something someone else said which… made me realise that maybe I was pushing you too much,” he explained, his shoulders slightly falling.   
  
   “Harry, you mustn’t let rumours effect you so easily. They are just silly students that have nothing else to talk about so we’re the prime subjects,” said Snape absently as if it were nothing.    
  
   “It’s not rumours.”  
  
   “Potter, I don’t have all night for this. Just spit it out.” Severus was beginning to lose his patience now. It was simple black and white. Just say it or don’t. Although he was curious to what the hell he was talking about, he just didn’t like dancing around the goddamn issue.   
  
   “Alright… Ron said something. Well, Hermione told me.”  
  
   Severus mentally smacked his forehead. He continued to stand, though, showing that he was listening.  
  
   “He’s upset because you and I are… doing stuff together.”  
  
   Oh Merlin, they knew? “You’ve been telling your friends what we do?”  
  
   “No! I mean… they know because of the papers the first time. And… Ron doesn’t know anything, Hermione only knew because of this stupid glow. But Ron’s just assuming things. He thinks you’re pushing me into doing things I don’t want to do, that you’re being dominant over me. And it made me realise that you’ve been nothing but polite to me, and… I got worried that maybe I was forcing you…”  
  
   “I see,” said Snape, trying his best not to outright say how childish and stupid the whole situation was. Honestly, he was quite thankful that he didn’t have to deal with this crap when he was Harry’s age. He just had James Potter and Sirius Black trying to hex him. In return, he did the same thing. Of course, there was always Lily, but that soon fell apart.       
   He moved closer to Harry, and he lifted his hand, running it against Harry’s cheek and down to his shoulder. “Harry, you have not forced me to do anything I did not wish to do with you. I am reserved, as you’ve said, but that does not mean I don’t wish to ‘do things’ with you,” he quoted.   
  
   Harry felt reassured when the hand went against him. Snape’s magic was much stronger now—he could feel it tingling against his skin. It wasn’t at its peak, but he knew it would be in a few more days. Snape still couldn’t teach, but he would be taking his class back soon enough. Personally, Harry couldn’t wait for no more Professor Desiree.   
   “I’m sorry if I come on too strong…” he tried to say. He felt both embarrassed and guilty. Not to mention completely needy. God, just the thought of Severus’ hard prick against him was enough to make his own member become erect. Was it always going to be like this?   
  
   “Potter, I have not forced myself upon you because I do not trust myself with you,” confessed Severus. “My bitter nature makes me vile and angry. You deserve a better partner than I. Why do you think I have been distant? You have a whole life ahead of you, Potter, and because of this bond, the two of us have been forced together. The Famous Harry Potter, the young wizard who could have anyone in the world-,”  
  
   “I don’t _want_ anyone else,” said Harry quickly, his hands taking Snape’s arms. “I want you, and only you. It’s not even the magic anymore.” Although that didn’t help with his desires. “When I found out who you really were and what you’ve been doing for me all this time? Something changed. In both me and the way I saw you.”  
  
   Severus looked away.  
  
   “Listen to me!” Harry exclaimed. “Yeah, we hated each other. Yeah, we made both of our lives a living hell, but all of that also meant we cared about what each other thought about us. I reminded you of James, and you hated that, and you were a dick to me, so I hated you. But knowing the truth, it’s changed all of that. I don’t care about it anymore… I care about you, and… I think I really do love you.”   
  
   Harry went a deep shade of red as he said that, and Severus felt his heart lurch in his chest. Thankfully, he was getting healthy again, otherwise he had a feeling he wouldn’t be on his feet still.  
  
   “I get that you’re insecure about yourself… but stop it,” continued Harry, his green eyes piercing the dark brown ones. “You’re amazing to me. Even your smart-arse attitude and snide remarks. You’re not this evil person I thought you once were. You’re just a hurt man, trying to keep himself together.”  
  
   Well, that made him feel brilliant. Severus pulled his arms back away. “Potter, I don’t need your bloody sympathy. If this is why you’ve come to like me, then that’s bloody-well stupid of you.”  
  
   “I didn’t mean it like that,” said the Gryffindor quickly, taking Snape’s hands back into his own. Snape always acted out when he was hurt, it was just how he dealt with things, so Harry knew he’d accidently made him feel insecure about himself.  
   “Sev… you’re the smartest, most bravest man I think I’ve ever known,” he said, leaning his hand up. He touched his fingertips to Snape’s cheek, leaning it beneath the curtain of dark hair. “No one has ever done what you did for me. You risked your life every day for me. You put yourself in so much danger.”  
  
   Severus just looked down at the Gryffindor. Harry saying he was proud? Smart, yes, he knew he was smart. But the bravest man he’d ever known? Severus did not pride himself on his actions. He was just keeping his promise. He was paying a debt and trying to redeem his wrongs.   
   It wasn’t often he was complimented in any way or form, and here Harry was saying some of the nicest things he’d ever heard someone say about him. He knew he wasn’t a nice person, but whatever Harry saw in him, he thanked whoever was out there to let Harry see it. Without it, they’d still hate one another.   
   Lifting his hand, he took Harry’s into his own. “I will not admit it easily, Potter—my feelings. I’ve been hurt before, which is why I am reserved, why I am not prancing around, screaming out my feelings for you. But they are there,” he said, putting Harry’s hand against his chest.  
  
   Harry could feel their magic pulsing, along with Snape’s heart. It sounded like music, vibrating through his fingertips. “I don’t expect you to say it,” he murmured, looking back up. “I can wait for however long you need.”  
  
   Severus gave a thankful nod. “Don’t think that I don’t want you. That I don’t often think of you, because I do. I just don’t think the world needs to see or know of it.”   
  
   “What about me?” asked the Gryffindor, his cheeks flushing as he bit his lip. God, he wanted him so much already again. They’d just had sex a few hours ago, and he was already getting worked up.  
  
   Severus mentally smirked at Harry’s neediness for him. “Yes, I suppose I could show you more often, I just don’t wish to come off too strong.” He was well in control of himself and would not make himself out to be a horny teenager. He was a grown man and a professor here at Hogwarts. Nobody needed to see that. And it was _not_ the way he acted.   
  
   Harry could have laughed. “Sev, you’ve been nothing but sweet to me. Maybe I’d _like_ to see you a little bit out of control,” he smirked. Snape always seemed in perfect control of everything. It was nice to see him just relax or do something out of the ordinary once in a while.  
  
   Raising a brow, Severus just swallowed awkwardly. He was no sadist, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a dominant character. It just meant he didn’t get off on hurting his partner—not that he really had any experience when it came to that.   
   He smirked lightly, running his finger’s beneath Harry’s chin and picking it up. He kissed him, their soft lips going together. He moved his tongue into Harry’s mouth, and suddenly the Gryffindor was eagerly massaging his own tongue against his.   
   But he wouldn’t let it go any further. He pulled back, running his thumb against Harry’s cheek. “You still have to clean your bed up, and although Poppy is no longer monitoring my heart-rate, I still think I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”   
  
   Although wanting more, Harry nodded. He knew Severus was just doing what was good for his health—even though his erection was hissing at him to not let it go any further.   
  
   “When you are done, you can put the candles out and join me in my bed for the night if you wish,” said Snape, his hand lowering. The excitement in Harry’s green eyes was exquisite.   
  
   “You’re serious?”   
  
   “Unless you prefer the one you transfigured? I am rather missing my lounge, Potter…”  
  
   Harry grinned. “I’d love to.” When Severus nodded, the man grabbed his pyjamas and headed into the bathroom. Harry quickly went over to his books and started sorting them out eagerly, packing them away in his trunk or bag for school tomorrow.   
   By the time he was done, Severus had come out, changed and slipped himself under the covers. He quickly blew out the candles, the light of the fire still glowing lightly, and he slipped under the covers of the four-poster bed draped in Slytherin emerald, resting his glasses on the nightstand.   
   “So, who’s the big spoon?” he asked, looking down at Snape. His vision was blurry, but even with that he could still see the non-amused look on Snape’s face.  
  
   “Do we even need to discuss such a thing?” said Snape, moving to face Harry. It was dark, but with the fire going, it was still easy to see those gorgeous green eyes of his, the lightning scar just beneath his growing fringe.   
  
   “Why do I have to be the little spoon?”  
  
   “Well, I thought that would have been obvious. You’re shorter than I am, you’re younger than I am, and I have longer hair than you do. You’d be choking on it all night. Also, I have a feeling I won’t be able to sleep if you’re latching onto my back. I thought you would have enjoyed the show of affection?” he mused.  
  
   Harry rolled his eyes, though his mouth a smirk. “Alright,” he said, rolling onto his side so his back was facing Snape. There was a slight hesitation, and Harry realised this was probably the first time Severus had ever slept with someone else (besides the first night they’d had sex). He’d at least spooned with Ginny before. This was an odd turn of events. Ginny enjoyed being the little spoon. But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy this way. Actually… it was much better he realised.  
   Soon enough, the warmth of the other wizard was against his back, and arm draping over his side. He pressed into the attention. “I like being against you,” he said softly, feeling his voice vibrate through the back of his neck.   
  
   Snape stared across the room, feeling awkward at touching Harry like this. It was strange to share the bed in a normal manner. It was much warmer though, and he liked that. He could smell Harry’s hair, and the scent of sweet red-wood and birch from his magic.  It was soothing, and made him relax. Suddenly, he was more tired than he thought he was, and he drifted into sleep after telling Harry to go to sleep.  
  
*****  
   When Fawkes’ screech rippled through the room, Harry groaned, eyes fluttering open. The warmth around him was wonderful, and he remembered that he was in Snape’s bed. He could feel the Potions master behind him, his body warm against his back. It seemed they hadn’t moved at all during the night, and Snape’s hand was still over his side. He felt a little stiff, but good.  
   He knew he had to get up—the both of them did—but he snuggled back into the body behind him, though absently feeling something hard pressed into his backside. In his sleepy-state, he put his hand behind him, pushing whatever it was away. He assumed it was a bone or a hand or something. Oh boy, was he wrong. As Snape’s erection was in his hand, he went beet red.  
  
   Having heard Fawkes’ morning call, Severus was of course ready to wake up, but the scent of Harry against him was just too relaxing. However, when the Gryffindor shifted and grabbed at him, his eyes snapped open, body going stiff.  
  
   Oh, God… Snape had morning glory. Snape… of all people… had morning glory! Harry immediately moved his hand back and pretended it was nothing, snuggling back into the covers. Okay, so they’d had sex and seen each other pretty much naked, but Harry still found it embarrassing when they weren’t high off magic. Not to mention the thought of Snape’s hard dick pressed against his backside was horribly arousing. It was too early for this!  
   He bit his lip in want. He wanted Snape’s hands on him. He wanted his lips on his shoulders, the back of his neck. Most of all, he really wanted to see Severus completely naked. He hadn’t had a good look at the man yet—even though he’d felt him in his hand and backside.  
  
   Severus awkwardly removed his arm from Harry’s body, pushing himself up from beneath the covers. That was utterly embarrassing.  
  
   When he felt movement, Harry turned, disappointed as Snape was sitting up on his side of the bed. “Sev?”   
  
   Turning over his shoulder, Severus looked at Harry. “Yes?” He adjusted himself more comfortably.  
  
   “Sorry… I-I didn’t mean to grab, it just kind of happened, and… I didn’t… realise what it was. I thought it might have been your arm or something.” He honestly tried not to laugh over the whole thing. He may have if Snape was younger or more immature, but he was very much a mature wizard.  
  
   Snape just gave Harry an odd look. “There’s no need to apologise, Potter. It was my wrong doing, and it shouldn’t have happened.”  
  
   What? “But it’s completely normal…” said Harry, now pushing himself up and grabbing his glasses to slip them onto his face. He realised just how awkward Snape looked.  
  
   Yes, he was aware it was normal, but even so. “Yes, but it should not have happened. I should have more self-control.” He was a bloody grown wizard for Merlin’s sake, not a teenage boy.   
  
   But you couldn’t just control that. Harry knew that. It just happened from being asleep. Morning wood was completely normal.   
   Moving across the bed, he went behind Snape and leant against his shoulder. “Don’t worry about that. It’s nothing. Besides… it sort of gave me my own issue,” he mumbled shyly. He ran his hand down Snape’s arm and down to his thigh, dipping in slightly. “I want to see you lose control…”  
  
   Severus felt his blood run cold, his erection standing beneath his pyjama pants now. Oh, Merlin. He grabbed Harry’s hand and removed it, though. No, he couldn’t lose his control, because he was afraid he’d hurt Harry. His father had been horribly abusive, and part of him hated that so much of his bitterness and cruelty had come from him. He didn’t need to add sexual abuse to his list.   
  
   When Snape stood, Harry frowned as he watched him walk into the bathroom. Immediately, he pushed himself up and followed, padding his way cautiously into the titled room. “I’m sorry…” he muttered, “I shouldn’t have done that.”  
  
   “Potter…” said Severus, looking down at himself.   
   He walked back into the next room and grabbed his robed before coming back into the bathroom. “You’ll get your wish, Harry. I’m going to change… you can stay if you like.” As awkward as that was going to be.  
  
   Harry felt bad now, like he was doing something he shouldn’t. But they were in a relationship, and Snape was giving him a step forward. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.” He went and quickly grabbed his own school robed, giving Snape the same opportunity. The both of them needed to move past this. They’d fucked, for God’s sake!   
   “Here,” he said, putting his clothes down. “I’m going to get dressed also, and you can either stay or go.”  
  
   “Harry, there’s no need for-,”  
  
   “I want to.” He immediately started stripping down, a hot flush slapping his cheeks as he realised how quickly he’d gotten undressed, his underpants the only thing on in the cold room. He looked at Severus who was watching him curiously. And he removed his undies, kicking them to the side. “There…”  
  
   Snape kept his eyes on Harry’s. “I don’t need to see you to know how attractive you look nude, Potter…” he said, still dressed in his pyjamas. He mentally sighed. Alright, Harry did that for him, he may as well repay the favour.   
   Unbuttoning his shirt, he slipped it off and dropped it in the pile Harry’s clothes were. He then hesitantly dropped his pants, standing there. “Nothing special, Potter. Was it everything you ever hoped for?” he said sarcastically, as if it would stop him from feeling awkward. Oh bloody hell, they were both men!  
  
   Harry’s eyes awkwardly took in Snape’s body. He liked it. He liked it a lot. He was tall, had thick shoulders, a little on the bonier side than he realised, a small amount of chest hair. Down his belly was a snail-trail like his own, although darker, and it lead down to the part that had been inside him. Snape’s uncut member.   
   He couldn’t help it, and he moved forward, putting his hands onto Snape’s pale chest. Their bottom halves pressed together, and he could feel his erection pressing into Snape’s bare thigh. He lifted his hand, pulled Severus’ neck down and kissed him hard.   
  
   Feeling the warm skin against skin, Severus kissed back, his hands lowering to Harry’s hips. His eyes closed as he took in the taste of the Gryffindor, tongues massaging one another.  
  
   Soon enough, Harry could feel Snape’s own hard member pressing eagerly into his lower belly. “God, you’re even hotter than I thought you were,” he groaned needily, lowering his hand to take Snape’s thick erection into his hand. He could feel it was a little wet from the excitement, dabbing onto his skin.   
  
   Severus tensed at the feeling of Harry’s fingers teasing his foreskin. “Potter, no, we can’t. It’s a school day, and we can’t have our magic glowing around us,” he informed, taking Harry’s shoulders and pushing him back, even though he wanted nothing more than to ravage the Gryffindor’s tight arse. He didn’t have classes, but he wasn’t staying here all day, and Harry did. Plus, they still had breakfast.  
   He caught himself and grabbed his underpants, pulling them on as quickly as possible to hide the temptation. It didn’t do much, but they couldn’t risk people knowing that they’d been intimate. At least they’d gotten that out of the way, though.  
   He tossed Harry’s clothes at him. They both got dressed, and Harry had one of the elves deliver his trunk back to Gryffindor common room. Then they departed as they went to breakfast, flustered and sexually frustrated for the sake of not ‘glowing’ in public.  
  
*****  
   Classes had been the usual. Ron had been asking him personal questions all day, hinting to things—sexual things. Harry didn’t let out in any of them. He didn’t have to. He and Snape had only ever done it twice. The rest was just kissing and _wanting_ to shag one another. But it was never actually doing it. Snape was determined not to give into his more ‘wild’ side, and Harry wasn’t going to force it out of him either—as much as he wanted to experience that.  
   Eventually, he came out with the truth. He told Ron that Snape wasn’t anything like he thought he was. Ron finally admitted that he saw Snape as manipulative, and Harry said it was a complete load or rubbish. He told him that they’d only ever done it twice, and Ron almost seemed shocked, staring at him.  
   “What?” asked Harry, shrugging. “Is that honestly so hard to believe?” he asked as they were sitting in the Potions classroom—Professor Desiree still taking classes. Thank God she’d backed off from Snape—who’d put in a complaint about her quite easily. Snape didn’t hold back on his words either apparently.   
  
   “Um… yeah, that’s bloody-well hard to believe. It’s _Snape!_ ” Ron whispered harshly as they were paired together this period.   
  
   “Ron, all the time you called him an ugly git and said that he’s probably never been shagged. And now you’re saying that he’s a… sex fiend or something! What is it? Is he a virgin or not?” Harry stated harshly. He was getting very tired of the way Ron was acting.   
  
   The read-head just looked at the cauldron in front of them. “Well, he’s obviously not one now with you shagging him. But… once he’s had a taste.”  
  
   “Ron, you haven’t even had sex, so you don’t even know what it’s like,” said Harry impatiently, rolling his eyes as he tossed in the ingredients and it started to expel purple fumes like said in the book.   
  
   Ron went stiff, his cheeks going red. “W-well, how do you know we haven’t?”   
  
   Harry just lifted a brow. “Look, stop acting like it’s the biggest deal ever. It really isn’t… It’s just… a feeling, okay? You’re not missing out on anything. Yeah, it’s good, but you can do the same thing with yourself.”   
  
   The ginger-headed boy was still red. “Harry, don’t say it like that!”  
  
   “What? You’re going to get nervous about it when you’re already making out that Snape’s some kind of devil in the pants? Seriously, Ron. If you’ve got something to ask me, just do it instead of being all passive aggressive over things. You got the information wrong and it made you think things that weren’t true.”  
  
   Looking down, Ron pursed his lips to the side. “Sorry…” he mumbled. “I just…”  
  
   “I know, Ron, and it’s fine. But what Snape and I do in our personal time really isn’t anyone else’s business.”  
  
   “Harry, you’re famous. You do realise that the moment you step out of Hogwarts that everyone’s gunna want a piece of you? Don’t forget that. You can’t just live at Hogwarts forever, mate.”  
  
   Harry hadn’t forgotten about that. Yes, it had been rather blissful now that Hogwarts was quietening down, but Hogwarts was school. Once he stepped out into the real word, he knew very well that the _Prophet_ was going to want a piece of him and all the scoop on his and Snape’s relationship and sexual relationship. He hadn’t forgotten that.   
   “Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t mean I have to tell anyone anything,” he stated. “Besides, when I’m done with school, I’m going right into training. I still have enough money to do that. With the Death Eaters either on the run or selling one another out, I figured going back to Sirius’ house could work. After all… he did leave it to me before he died. Now that Voldemort’s gone, it’s safe.”   
   Harry felt a sudden wave of unpleasant emotions hit him in the chest. He missed everyone so much. Especially Sirius and Lupin. Teddy was with his grandmother, but Harry would still like to go and visit the Lupin family’s son. He planned on at least visiting Dudley once as well during the holidays.   
  
   “I dunno if it’s safe there. I mean, yeah, the Death Eaters are on the run, and most of ‘em are probably gunna turn on each other, but even so. Doesn’t it have… too many bad memories?”   
  
   Yeah, it did, but that didn’t mean he should just toss them away. Sure, it was a bit dirty and old, but Sirius was his Godfather. He could clean it up and make it look nice. Although, the thought of that painting of Mrs Black wasn’t very nice… Having to live with that for the rest of his life wasn’t a pleasant thought. Maybe he’d have to go elsewhere.   
   “Yeah… I suppose…” he mumbled lightly. He didn’t really have anywhere else to go, though. Now that the Dursleys would never take him back—not that he’d ever _want_ to go back.  
  
   There was silence between the two of them for a moment, the class around them rowdy. “Well… what about Snape?” asked Ron uneasily. “I mean… he does live somewhere, right?”  
  
   Of course he lived somewhere! Harry had thought about it before, but he wasn’t sure if Severus would like it, or allow it. They were together, but living in the same house seemed like such a quick move. He supposed he always could stay here at Hogwarts. Or rent a small place. He had enough wizard money to do so. He could just convert it at Gringotts Bank.   
   “Um… I dunno about that. I don’t know if Snape really uses his home often. From what I know, Hogwarts is kind of more of a home to him than anywhere else,” he mumbled.   
  
   “Worth a try though, right? After all, you’ve already done the most… personal thing. What’s living together gunna do?”   
  
   Harry shrugged. “I dunno, maybe I’ll come out with long hair.” Harry smirked when Ron snorted.  
  
   “Yeah, maybe you’ll start sounding like him, too.”  
  
   “Shut up,” Harry laughed, though pleased Ron wasn’t talking about their romantic relationship anymore.   
   The rest of the Potions lesson went smoothly. Harry and Ron got the Potion down well enough to please Professor Desiree, and soon they were packing their things when the bell rang through the school.  
   Harry was about to walk out with Ron and Hermione before he felt a hand on his shoulder, making him turn to see the temporary Potions professor.  
  
   “Mister Potter, could I please have a word with you?” asked the witch, her eyes as gentle as ever on the Gryffindor.   
  
   Harry felt uneasy, but he shrugged. “Go on, guys, I’ll catch you later,” he said, Ron and Hermione giving him a worried look. Harry had no idea what this was going to be about, but he gathered he’d find out. Nowadays he pretty much just rolled with the punches. There was always something someone wanted out of him.   
  
   When the last student left, Desiree approached Harry. “I hear you want to be an Auror, is that correct?”   
  
   “Yes…” said Harry, trying to keep a brow down.   
  
   “Well, you certainly have the magic to do so. But you have to pass Potions to train and study as an Auror, yes?”  
  
   Where was this going? “Yes, Professor,” he answered. “Am… I doing bad or something?”  
  
   Professor Desiree put a polished finger to her chin. “Well, you are falling behind a little, I have noticed,” she stated. “If you want to be part of this class, I think you should have some more private lessons.”  
  
   Seriously? Harry frowned. “I thought I was doing better,” he said. Hell, he wasn’t even that _bad!_ Snape had taught him a lot of little things that helped in every day preparation, and now he was doing bad? To be honest, he thought he would have been doing better without the distraction of Professor Snape around him. Half the time he accidently did something wrong because he was watching the man. It wasn’t like Snape favoured him either. He was still professional.  
   “Where am I going wrong?” he asked. He couldn’t start failing now! It was almost half way through the year. “Professor Snape said I was doing well. Or… _better_ at least.”   
  
   “Yes, well, I’m afraid his feelings towards you may have skewed his view,” said the witch, putting her hand onto Harry’s shoulder. “I’m sure he just didn’t wish to hurt your feelings.”   
  
   Harry found that hard to believe. Snape never made it a point to walk around an issue. He was blunt and as forward as they came. Especially to Gryffindors. Partner or not. Feelings towards him or not. Why would Severus lie like that?   
  
   “Look, you don’t have to mention this to him, Harry, I’m sure he’s just trying to protect your ego,” Desiree said sweetly, patting his hair.  
  
   Harry shook his head, moving away. He was pissed off now. School wasn’t a joke! His grades weren’t a joke! He needed to pass Potions, and if Snape was going easy on him… (Hermione would kill him)?   
  
   Professor Desiree smiled gently. “Why don’t you have some private lessons with me, Harry? I’ll be able to teach you a few things that Professor Snape may not.”  
  
   Hardly. Snape was a highly intelligent Potions master (and wizard). The book he’d gotten from his sixth year said enough about that. No wonder Snape’s lessons were usually up on the blackboard and not from books—he knew they were wrong.   
   “N-no… it’s fine, I’ll just try and pay more attention in class,” he muttered. “I have homework to do, so if it’s all the same to you, am I allowed to go?”   
  
   Professor Desiree nodded. “Oh, and before you go, I must insist you keep this to yourself, Mister Potter,” she said gently. “I wouldn’t want Professor Snape getting into trouble, and I wouldn’t want it to be the cause of a spat, or even worse, the Headmistress finding out and Professor Snape losing his job over it.”  
  
   Professor Desiree’s voice was sweet, and Harry could tell she was trying to guilt trip him. He just nodded silently before grabbing his things and heading outside. There was no way he wasn’t talking to Snape about this. He was going to talk to him right now.


	32. Confrontation

Chapter Thirty Two: Confrontation.  
  
   Harry made his way down to the dungeons before dinner. He still had his bag and books with him, and he decided he’d catch up with Ron and Hermione later (after he’d spoken to Severus). He had to get this out in the open, and he had to ask why the hell Snape was going easy on him. Or if not that, then not telling him that he was starting to fall behind again?  
   He knew the last few weeks had been stressful. With Snape being injured and Harry looking after him, and then there was Professor Desiree. But to be honest, he’d actually gotten a lot more homework done than he would have with Ron and Hermione. Hermione would still force them to do homework, but being in the silence of the dungeons helped him get things done quicker. Not to mention if he needed help with a question he could always as Severus—a professor and a highly intelligent wizard. Not that Snape fed him the answers, but he sure as hell explained things well enough for him to understand it.   
   The office door was open, and he didn’t bother knocking, walking inside. Snape was sitting at his desk, head down and writing onto a piece of parchment.   
  
   “Potter, what are you doing here?” asked the Potions master, looking up from his paper.   
  
   “I had a word with Professor Desiree just before,” started Harry, “She asked if I could stay back, and that I need more private lessons if I want to stay in Potions class.”  
  
   Snape lifted an inquisitive brow, lowering his quill. “And why would you need _more_ private lessons?”  
  
   “I was hoping you could tell me that, Professor,” said the Gryffindor tetchily.   
  
   Severus frowned. “I have not been teaching you for weeks, Potter, I can’t very well see why I would know about your Potions lessons. Believe it or not, but Professor Desiree and myself do not make a habit of speaking to one another.” Despite the fact that the part Veela had tried to get to know him, Snape was not interested, and he made it clear the last time they spoke on the weekend. He put a complaint in this morning about her and her attitude towards the professors and students. McGonagall took it seriously—turned out he wasn’t the only professor to complain.   
  
   “She said that I’m falling behind, and that you’ve been lying to me about my scores because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”  
  
   Snape almost laughed, attempting to swallow his tongue. “And you believed her?” he finally asked. Merlin, why would he ever keep _that_ from a Gryffindor!? Harry or not, he’d still damn well make it apparent that he was falling behind.   
  
   Harry shrugged, not knowing what to say. “Well… I don’t know,” he said, looking around the room. “I was hoping maybe you could clarify things for me.”  
  
   Severus leant his hand beneath his chin, watching the Gryffindor. He always did enjoy when Harry looked flustered. “Well, I’d imagine it’s quite obvious, Potter. Professor Desiree has been spoken to about her behaviour, and I’d imagine she is attempting to meddle in business that is not her own.” That or she was trying to get Harry alone for some reason. He never trusted her to begin with. Could his gut be right? Could she really be some sort of spy, ready to sell something to the papers about them? He supposed if she were smart, she’d be hiding it until her position was over.   
   He’d also spoken about that to Minerva, but she said nothing could be proven upon his ‘gut feeling’. She didn’t trust her any more than he did, so at least that was somewhat reassuring. Minerva could easily spy on her in her Animagus form if she really wanted to.   
  
   “So…” Harry’s eyes narrowed a little as he thought about it, “you’re saying that she’s just trying to get back at you for putting in a complaint about her?”  
  
   “That seems the logical reason behind her behaviour. Of course, I have not seen your grades recently, but I could always test you if you needed me to. I am still in control of the lessons, I am just unable to attend.”   
  
   Harry hardly needed a pop quiz right now. He really missed Snape teaching, though. He never thought he’d ever have that feeling, but it was true. As sharp tongued and as strict as Snape was, he got the point across in his lessons. Shut up, listen, learn and pass.   
  
   Standing from his seat, Snape moved around towards Harry, his robes following. “Potter, it’s quite clear what she wants from this. Either time with you alone, to get something from you, or to try and tear us apart for some unknown reason. Obviously she wishes to gain some sort of information. Considering I showed her no interest, she will most likely be after the next source.”  
  
   “She’s a Slytherin, Sev… she’ll win either way with what she wants, and I don’t want to have private lessons with her. I’m just a student and, technically, she can control me.”  
  
   Yes, Slytherins were very ambitious and usually went to extreme lengths to get what they wanted, Severus knew this.   
   “Have you forgotten that I am a Slytherin, too, Potter?” he asked, raising a brow and folding his arms across his chest.   
  
   Honestly, sometimes Harry did forget that Snape was a Slytherin just because he could act so differently when not in public view.      
  
   “As a professor here, she may be able to make simple suggestions, but I assure you, the Headmistress has the final say when it comes to anything we wish as professors here.” After all, he didn’t want to take Harry into private lessons himself at the beginning of the school year, but here they were, with Christmas nearing.   
  
   Harry felt a little bit relaxed at that. Not by much, because he had a feeling that she was going to hound and harass him, but at least she didn’t really have that much power over him. She could give him detention, though. The thought of that wasn’t good. Especially if she really was looking to get information about his and Severus’ relationship. He’d have to make sure to keep as silent as possible about everything.  
   “What am I supposed to do, then?” he asked. “Do I just… take what she says? I mean, she doesn’t really have the right to give me lessons if I’m not failing. But I can’t very well prove that I’m not, because she’s the one keeping my scores…”  
  
   “Do you wish for me to speak to her? Those lessons are more mine than they are hers. In fact, I can get your results from her right now if you wish?”  
  
   “No!”   
  
   Snape raised a brow. “So you wish to be harassed?”  
  
   Harry frowned. “No… I just don’t want her to feel like she’s winning.”  
  
   This time Severus smirked. “Very well. What do you wish to do, Potter?”  
  
   The Gryffindor felt his shoulders slack. “I guess the right thing to do would be stand up to her and tell her I’m not failing.”  
  
   “But you are unaware of your grades. I assume you don’t wish for her to know you have informed me of this, so I cannot give them to you,” explained Snape in an amused manner. Scheming with Potter was actually quite enjoyable, and a surprise to him.   
   
   True. Harry groaned, his shoulders slumping. “When are you coming back? Potions sucks with her, Sev.”  
  
   Well, Snape would have thought Hell had frozen over when Harry Potter claimed that he was a good Potions professor. “Two more days, Potter, and I will be back in class.”   
  
   Thank God. Harry couldn’t wait until then. But then why would Professor Desiree start asking about private lessons, as if she were staying longer than that? Harry felt an awful feeling in his gut. And then he heard a knock on the door, seeing Professor McGonagall standing there. Oh Great, he bet anything that she was here because Professor Desiree told the same story to her.  
  
   “Good, you’re both here,” said the witch, looking back and forth between the two. Both Severus and Harry turned their attention towards her.  
   “I just received word that you have been ‘going easy’ on Potter previously in classes,” said the Headmistress.  
  
   Harry instantly grew angry. “She’s lying, Professor!” How dare she go and spread these rumours!? Harry and Snape had had a hard enough time with other rumours let alone these ones spreading around the school. No doubt she’d told other students as well, just to get the word going and get Snape into trouble over it.   
  
   McGonagall gave a questioning look to the Harry. “Potter, is there something you wish to tell me?”   
  
   “It seems that Professor Desiree is out for revenge from the complaint that I put in about her,” stated the Slytherin, his hands going together in front of him. He was positive Minerva didn’t give names when she spoke to Desiree, but the other witch was smart enough to know he didn’t like her.   
   “You don’t honestly believe that I would go easy on Potter simply because I am in a relationship with him? That’s preposterous.”   
  
   No, McGonagall actually didn’t believe that at all. She knew very well that Severus would not do something like that. Especially not to a Gryffindor. Despite Harry being one, he still didn’t favour them.     
   “No, I don’t believe it, but I had to investigate it either way,” she noted, seeing Harry relax. “Potter, I have been looking at your grades, and there has been a slight fall in the last few weeks, which does make things look suspicious.”  
  
   Snape’s brow furrowed and Harry mentally growled. “It’s her,” he said. “She’s doing it on purpose.”  
  
   “Each professor does have their own teaching method,” stated Snape, looking to the Headmistress with a shrug.   
  
   “I’ve been doing everything you taught me!” Harry protested. “She makes us learn from the books, which I know now are half the time wrong, and she doesn’t put instructions on the board like you do. Wouldn’t _everyone’s_ grades be going down!?”    
  
   Potter did have a point. “Your grades had increased during private lessons with Professor Snape, Harry, which makes it look suspicious. I believe the both of you,” she quickly added as Harry’s mouth twitched, “but you must understand what this may look like to others.”  
  
   Harry couldn’t control the tight knot in his stomach which was boiling. He was pissed off that Professor Desiree would go and do something like this and make the both of them look like cheats. No one would have ever believed that Snape would go easy on him, but now that they were in a relationship? Everyone probably would.   
   “I’m not going to get kicked out over this am I? Or Severus lose his job? It’s a lie! She can’t win like this!” he continued to fight. It just wasn’t fair! She was just being bitter because nobody liked her the way she wanted them to. Because they were in a relationship!   
  
   McGonagall put her hand up. “Potter, calm yourself,” she said, shaking her head. “I do not believe Professor Desiree’s claims, and I have known Severus since he was a boy. I assure you, I am well aware of his feelings towards Gryffindors.”  
  
   Snape just inclined his head. It was no secret.   
  
   “Severus, do you think you could return to classes tomorrow? I think Professor Desiree has overstayed her welcome, and I do find her behaviour unacceptable for Hogwarts.” After the discussions she had had with multiple teachers (and students), it was very much time to let Severus back into his position as Potions master.  
  
   “I would have to check with Poppy, but I do believe I am well enough,” said Severus. He saw Harry relax at the thought of that from the corner of his eye. Well, it was good to know at least someone would be looking forward to his return. He doubted anyone else would be—not that he cared.   
  
   “Excellent,” said the Headmistress. “I believe I am needing to have another talk with Professor Desiree. Oh, and I have spoken to Longbottom. He will be entering classes tomorrow. Please be gentle with him, I’m afraid he might burst at the news…” She clicked her tongue.  
  
   Severus eyed Harry for a moment before giving a formal nod of the head as McGonagall left once more, closing the door behind her. He turned back to Harry. He almost felt like saying ‘I told you so’ but he knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere. Clearly Potter had spoken with her about Mister Longbottom wanting to retake Potions.  
   He was, of course, very curious to the conversation that McGonagall and Desiree would share. Of course, he wished he was there to see it happen, but these things were meant to be private. He usually trusted Minerva’s judgement, and was more than thankful that he could possibly be returning to classed tomorrow. The look on Desiree’s face would be very satisfying for him to see. He doubted he would, though. A disappointment.   
  
   “Look, I’ll partner up with him if it helps any?” the Gryffindor suggested, feeling a grin cross his face. Now that Professor Desiree was off the job (he figured), his whole body had loosened at the thought and gone straight to Neville joining classes tomorrow.  
  
   “Potter, Mister Longbottom is a lost cause, so unless you wish for your own grades to lower-,”  
  
   “He’s not a lost cause!” Harry protested angrily, “You just don’t give him enough credit.”  
  
   Snape felt a hot slap in his gut as Harry defended the other boy. “If he wastes my resources, you will be joining him in detention, too,” he warned. “Ingredients don’t just walk into my personal stores, Potter, they take effort to collect.”  
  
   Harry knew that. “I’ll help him.”  
  
   “Why is it so important for you to help Longbottom?” asked the Potions master, taking a seat back at his desk.   
  
   “Because he’s my friend. And because he is good at it when he puts the effort in. You just scare him a lot.”  
  
   Severus rolled his eyes. It wasn’t honestly like he did it on purpose. Longbottom was just a bumbling fool when it came to Potions.   
  
   Moving forward, Harry leant his elbows down onto the desk. “Please be nice to him when he comes back, Sev. I offered to help him, and I don’t want him regretting it. He wants to be an Auror just like me.”  
  
   “I was under the impression that Longbottom wanted to work with Herbology…” Snape muttered, trying his best to look back down at his work. He hated when Harry did this, with those large, green eyes of his, looking at him, wanting something out of him.   
  
   “Yeah, he does, but I think that’s more of a hobby thing… “  
  
   Severus looked up, his eyes halving. “Do you even _know_ your supposed friend, Potter? Or are you just trying to make him do things he doesn’t wish to so you can have that odd little trio trend you have when you and Granger part ways?”  
  
   “It’s an opportunity of a lifetime,” explained Harry. “Besides, if he changes his mind, then at least he’s still got the experience.” He stopped for a moment. “And what trio thing?”   
  
   “Weasley, Granger, Potter, and now Weasley, Longbottom and Potter?” Merlin, even Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. “I don’t know what it is about your generation, but they seem to travel in packs of three.” At least Harry was being smart about his ideas on opportunities, though. Having the most experience one could get was a very good thing.   
   He mentally sighed, rubbing his forehead when Harry just gave him an odd look. “I promise nothing, Potter. If Longbottom behaves and works well, then he should have nothing to worry about. If not… that is a different story.”   
  
   The Gryffindor shook his head. “Fine, I can’t tell you how to teach-,”  
  
   “You’re bloody right you can’t.”  
  
   Harry smirked, Snape’s face stern. “Alright, alright. I’ll try and help Neville the best I can. I’m sure I can reassure him that you’re not as scary as you used to be.”   
  
   Severus just returned to his papers. “If I am to return to class tomorrow, then I best get myself sorted and check in with Madam Pomfrey. Dinner will be served soon enough, Potter, you best head to the Great Hall.”  
  
   Harry moved his hands across the desk, moving the parchment and ink out of the way. “You’re trying to get rid of me?”   
  
   Looking at those gorgeous green eyes of Harry’s, Severus lifted his hand to take the young wizard’s chin, lifting it with his index finger. “Always, Potter,” he smirked, pushing the Gryffindor’s face away.   
  
   Harry pouted, rubbing his chin. “Fine,” he muttered disappointedly. As he turned around to walk out, he was yanked back by his collar, Snape behind him. He stiffened as he felt the man’s warm body against his back. Just from the scent and feel of Severus, he was already excited and wanted more.   
  
   “I look forward to sharing my classroom with you, Potter,” Snape hissed gently into the Gryffindor’s ear. He could see a warm blush on Harry’s face, and he smirked—despite his own flushed cheeks (he was getting more confident, though). He nudged Harry towards the door, and the both of them were left flustered. Sometimes Severus wondered if he enjoyed making himself suffer.   
  
*****  
   The following morning, Harry and Ron had a free period together. They were sitting out in the courtyard when Ron nudged him in the side, making him look up. Oh, no. It was Professor Desiree, and she wasn’t wearing a very friendly expression.   
   He hadn’t heard of anything since last night with Snape and McGonagall (which he’d told Ron and Hermione about). He knew she was getting the sack, but he didn’t think she’d still be here. Obviously the train had been scheduled this morning to take her back to London. He wondered if Severus knew about this. He and McGonagall were tight, he probably did. Severus didn’t miss much.  
   “Professor, what can we do for you?” he asked curiously as she stormed her way over. Clearly the complaint had hit the roof. She looked fuming! Her trunk was trailing behind her by an invisible force.  
  
   “I suppose you think you’re smart, hm, Potter?” she indicated rudely. “I should have known you’d go whispering to your boyfriend about the discussion we had. Gryffindors can never keep their mouths shut.”  
  
   Harry really didn’t enjoy hearing that word. Ron was gawking beside him, pale and obviously unable to think of anything to say.   
   “Excuse me?” he asked, raising a brow. “You never said anything was confidential, and I have all the right to talk to Professor Snape. He’s my teacher for Potions, and he knows my grades better than you do.”  
  
   “Don’t be so daft, he hasn’t taught in weeks!” she snapped. “I should have known Hogwarts was corrupt and bias anyway. Why would they believe me? A substitute, when you’re all so tight nick together? Doesn’t matter anyway, I got what I came for,” she said, holding a few rolls of parchment in her hand.  
  
   Harry eyed the documents. He knew it! Snape had been right, she _was_ here to sell a story to the _Prophet!_  
   Immediately, he tried to grab the papers, but she was much taller than him. A familiar hot feeling bubbled in his gut. “Give them over! You don’t have any right to talk about me and my relationship!”  
  
   “You think the world is fair, Potter?” laughed the witch. “You’re just a boy. A boy who was forced into a hero. And now that everything is over, your life will be plastered all over the tabloids. Even though I am a qualified professor of Potions, there is always room for a little extra cash. And why not considering I was already coming here? And _this_ is the juice that they want. Harry Potter, the Gryffindor hero being bonded to his protector, Professor Severus Snape. A former Death Eater.”  
  
   “Hey, shut your mouth!” Ron yelled, ears going red as he realised he’d actually yelled at a teacher, let alone defended Snape.  
  
   Desiree smirked at the two of them. “Always did have your faithful sidekick, didn’t you, Potter?”  
  
   Harry couldn’t control the anger that was now surging its way into his shaken fists. He was about to outright lunge at the professor and rip out his wand when he felt Ron grab his arm and nudge his head towards the figure who was quickly approaching.   
  
   “Professor, is there a problem here?” said the very cool voice of Professor Snape. He quickly eyed the two Gryffindors. Harry was beyond furious, wild green eyes narrowed beneath his fringe.  
  
   “She’s got clippings!” Harry said darkly. “She’s been writing about us and is going to sell them to the _Prophet_.” Ron was silent beside him.   
  
    “You’re going to listen to a boy?” asked Desiree, giving Severus her best smile. “Oh, come now, he’s just upset at the fact that I questioned his grades. You’ve seen them; you know very well that they have dropped.”  
  
   “Yes, I have seen them,” Snape stated bluntly, both Harry and Ron tensing. “However, I do believe the fall of Potter’s grades is the result of a poor professor’s teaching methods.” Despite his calm composure, Severus was furious inside. If she weren’t a woman, he may have cursed her already. How dare she come over and torment Harry? That did _not_ sit well with him at all, and he could feel his magic burning at his fingertips. Damnit, Harry really did have a way of making him lose control of himself.  
  
   Desiree’s teeth clenched. “You’re questioning my teaching abilities?” she hissed, obviously embarrassed, “And in front of my students!?”  
  
   “ _Your_ students?” Severus asked with a snort. “I don’t know how you managed to weasel yourself in here without the Headmistress knowing of your goals, but you are nothing but an idiotic witch posing as a professor to get pathetic information for a story that only moronic people would believe and read. They were never your students to begin with, they are mine, and anything that happens in my classroom is my business and it will _stay_ there. Now, hand over the parchment.”   
  
   Ron was still stiff, as if too worried to move, and Harry just watched. Snape’s eyes were dark despite how calm he looked. He knew very well that he wasn’t going to let Professor Desiree get away with this, and he was thankful for that. Severus was very serious. And very angry.   
  
   Desiree scoffed, clutching the papers into her hand that she had attempted to hide from the Potions master mere seconds ago. “Oh, Severus, you know us Slytherins. We always get what we want.”  
  
   “Yes,” Snape smirked, “we do.” Within a flash, his wand had slipped from his sleeve and a jet of light struck the papers in Desiree’s hands. Instantly, they turned to ash. “You should know better than to wave your pride in the face of a dangerous wizard.”  
  
   The other Slytherin hissed. “You think I won’t remember what I wrote down!?” she snapped. “You have _no_ idea who you are dealing with. I can write anything about you in the papers! And those ‘moronic people’ will believe it! Do you understand?”  
  
   Severus didn’t slip his wand away, but he did give the woman a very dark glare. “I don’t think _you_ have any idea who _you_ are dealing with,” he said dangerously as he approached her. “Get off the school property or I _will_ have you arrested. Now that Potter and I are bonded, who do you think the majority of the wizarding world would believe? It would be wise to keep your mouth shut, _‘Professor’_. Don’t you know Potter has his ‘faithful sidekicks’? And let me tell you, they are willing to go to extreme lengths to get what they want.”  
  
   Desiree glanced quickly to the younger boys who were now looking at her with determined faces. She huffed, taking a step back from the other Slytherin, whose glare was almost as deadly as a Basilisk. She was no fool. She knew Severus could be dangerous.   
   “I was leaving anyway,” she muttered. “Don’t think any of you frighten me. You don’t.” She flinched when Snape’s wand pressed against her cheek. Without another word, she quickly turned her heal and walked towards the boathouse.  
  
   As Desiree walked away, Severus turned back to the Gryffindor’s. “Get to class, the both of you,” he muttered hostilely.   
  
   “We have a free period,” Harry said when he realised Ron wasn’t going to say anything.  
  
   “Well then get inside.”  
  
   “Professor, she’s gone.”  
  
   “Potter, I don’t bloody well care, I said get inside. Now do so before I take five points from each of you for making me come over here and sorting out your stupid mess.”  
  
   Ron grumbled and grabbed his things. “Professor?” Harry murmured in a whisper just so Severus could hear him. “It’s alright, she won’t really write that stuff, will she?”  
  
   As Harry’s hand went against his arm, Severus felt himself relax momentarily. He didn’t know why the whole thing had made him so angry, but he hated the thought of anyone bother Harry and getting up in his face. “Harry, we can discuss that later. Now go, the both of you,” he said, his voice calm. “I will see you in class.”  
  
   When Snape walked away, Ron gave Harry a surprised look. “Bloody hell, is he always like that?” he asked, heading into the castle. He didn’t hear what Snape and Harry had said to one another, he was too busy grabbing his things.   
  
   Harry smirked a little. “He’s a little protective…”   
  
   “A little?” Ron raised a brow, shaking his head.  
  
   Harry felt his cheeks warm. “Well, it’s the bond, really. It sort of makes us… hostile, jealous and protective of one another. Well, more so than we usually would be.”  
  
   “Harry, Snape protected you for years when he hated you… Don’t you think now that he has feelings for you that’s he’s gunna be even more intense? Bloody hell, he looked like he was this close to cursing her!”  
  
   Harry made no illusion to how protective Severus could be. “Hey, at least he told her, didn’t he?”  
  
   “You’re not wrong,” Ron said in a surprised awe. “Never thought I’d be thankful for Snape telling someone off.”  
  
   Harry just grinned as they headed back inside. He wondered just how protective Severus could be, though. Ron was right. He’d protected him when he hated him, and looking back, even though it was spiteful, Snape still did it. Now that he was bonded to him and liked him? Who knew just how dangerous a protective Snape could really be.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning that this fic is actually quite slow with the Snarry relationship. A lot of angst, profanity, nudity and sex scenes in the future. The indentations don't work in the formatting, but no, I will not be separating text lines, so please don't ask for me to do that in the future, thank you! :) 
> 
> Please also note that this series will have a few preferred versions of movies Vs Book or Book vs Movies, it really depends on which version I like better and would rather work with. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!


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